


when the earth meets the rain

by Stargazing_Psalmist



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: But why is it even rare though????, Chloe is a free gal, Chloe is a sweetie, Connor is Adorable, Depth for Chloe, Doggos - Freeform, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, It's gonna be a fluff fest y'all, Light Angst, Love at First Sight, Mutual Pining, On Hiatus, Post good ending, Post-Game, Rare Pairings, Re-writing, Romance, shifting pov, they're so cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-20 03:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15525498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargazing_Psalmist/pseuds/Stargazing_Psalmist
Summary: Chloe reunites with the brown-eyed ex-deviant hunter who saved her life in more ways than one.





	1. Passerby on a Snowy Night

**Author's Note:**

> Now then!!! Before we get started here, I just want to forewarn everyone that this first chapter is kind of like one massive *cough*trash heap of WORDS*cough* experiment! Again, I haven’t written anything in years, so any feedback is greatly appreciated. But it feels good to be writing again!! And for a ship that’s gone under the radar, but I absolutely love!!! 
> 
> So, without further ado, I present to you the first chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

_January 12, 2039_

It was very late, almost one o’clock in the morning. Although physical exhaustion was an impossible sensation for Chloe’s kind, there was no denying the strain in her processors from the long day she’d had. Every available reservation had been booked, wave after wave of families and other large parties coming through, the entire staff busting their chops to keep tables clean and hungry, expectant customers satisfied. Chloe was good at being organized, staying on top of things when it came to monitoring the status of service and a consumer’s approval of said service, all the while maintaining a charming and welcoming disposition. It was a quality she’d been programmed with. But if there had ever been a time when her capabilities were forced to function to their fullest potential, every facet of her model’s programming pushed to their absolute limit, tonight had been it.

Chloe lightly pressed her fingers against her temple as she trekked down the snow-covered streets of Detroit, eager and determined to get home as soon as possible. After such a tedious workday of cheerful greetings that gradually became more and more forced as the hours went on, petty customer complaints, order mix-ups, spills and breaks and general discombobulation, Chloe was longing for the peace and quiet of her small apartment. Her tiny gray couch and a warm cup of thirium sounded wonderful.

Despite her tired resolve, Chloe couldn’t help but slow down just a little bit to admire the city on a night like this. Sure, she could have taken a driverless taxi. But taking the time to experience and appreciate the world and all its wonder was not only a trend some were trying to revive, but a sensation that was completely incompatible for Chloe until just about a month ago. All of this was new to her, like having a veil removed from her face that had been there from the beginning of her existence. She could make out the dark shapes of the city laden with snow. She could feel the chill in the air, and the warmth of her coat, against her artificial skin. She could feel cold gusts combing through her hair, stinging her cheeks and biting her ears. The city lights sparkled in Chloe’s eyes as she took it all in.

The snow was coming down softly like a sheet of teeny-tiny white feathers, accumulating on the sidewalks and on top of cars and mailboxes, glittering under the mild light shone from neon blinking signs and the glowing street lamps that lined the sidewalks. The number of civilians was sparse due to the late hour, passing by here and there. Couples on late night outings. Adolescents who more than likely weren’t supposed to be out this late, whispering to one another, on their way to cause some trouble, no doubt. Men and women bundled up in their coats, gripping briefcases or donning company caps, probably just as weary and anxious to get home from their own strenuous workday. A few homeless people, wrapped in their thin, patchwork blankets to shield themselves from the cold as they slept. Chloe dropped some one-dollar bills and coins into their cardboard boxes and tin cans as she passed. It wasn’t much, but, regrettably, it was all she had on her right now.

Chloe continued on her way, deciding to allow the thought curling up on her couch with the new puppy she’d just adopted alleviate any further distractions. Just get home…No stops…

But then that’s when she saw him.

At first, Chloe wasn’t thinking much of it. Just another passerby walking towards her, no big deal. As they closed the distance, however, Chloe found herself taking note of a tall figure in a leather jacket and blue jeans. Judging by the nature of their gait, Chloe concluded it was a male.The stranger’s nose was buried into the thick black scarf wrapped around his neck, and his hands into the pockets of his jacket. All of that was fine and dandy, but it was the dark blue toque that was pulled over his head that particularly caught Chloe’s attention. Printed on the body of the hat, in bold white letters, was: DETROIT CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT, the department’s insignia sewn into the toque’s folded fabric.

Again, Chloe didn’t think too much of it. There was that brief sense of admiration, respect, and, in this case, a bit of caution, that typically came with being in the presence of someone with such a profession. Otherwise, Chloe just minded herself and kept walking. Closer and closer. Indeed, the stranger simply passed her by. But not before Chloe had decided for whatever reason, curiosity or what have you, to look up at his partially hidden face.

She glimpsed a pair of warm brown eyes.

It made Chloe freeze squarely in her tracks, her shoes pressing into the snow beneath her with a soft crunch. Her processors had apparently forgotten how spent they were, because everything in her was suddenly racing as if jump-started. Her LED cycled yellow, and her thirium pump had accelerated, thudding wildly in her chest. She wondered if her optical units were playing tricks on her, and if not, what the chances were that this would happen. That it would be him.

From the soft skid in the snow behind her, Chloe knew the stranger had come to a halt as well. Her hands gripped the strap of her purse nervously. She began to turn, painfully slow, and from the corner of her optical unit, she could see the man doing the same, albeit not nearly as hesitant. He turned at the waist until his left foot went out and he was facing her halfway.

Their eyes met. Her eyes blew wide, mouth agape as she gazed into a shade of brown that was awfully familiar. She remembered those very same eyes looking down at her over the barrel of a gun pointed directly at her head. Eyes that had been conflicted and confused. She remembered how he’d refused to shoot her dead, insisting with a disturbed, shaking breath and the withdrawal of his hand for Kamski to take back the gun. At the time, she couldn’t comprehend the significance of his refusal. That was certainly no longer the case, her days of being a mere machine long over. Not only had he spared her life, but in the end had assisted Markus in setting their kind free to live lives of their own.

In that way, he’d saved her twice.

“….Connor?” she said carefully, softly. Then a troubling realization dawned on her. There had been several other RT600s that day. No. There were several hundreds of RT600s, of Chloe models, in existence. What were the odds he’d recognize her as the one he’d spared? The thought made Chloe’s LED momentarily flashed red.

His brows pinched together, unsure and thinking. Uncertain recognition, but recognition nonetheless and it made Chloe’s heart jump. After a long pause, he turned to face her fully. A hand lifted to pull his scarf below his chin, revealing the entirety of his face. In that moment, Chloe recalled something else. An observation that, at the time, had simply been just that. An observation made by a machine that could only receive and acknowledge information, without personal or emotional response or thought. In the light of her newfound deviancy, a supposedly minute observation now made warmth bloom across Chloe’s face.

_He’s very handsome._

“Do I…know you?” Connor asked gently, with a small tilt of the head. It was initially astonishing to hear him ask that. Connor, the most advanced android CyberLife had to offer, was inquiring about a mere RT600 model. But of course, Chloe kept in mind the change he himself had undergone, his renewal from acting as CyberLife’s puppet to a defender of his own kind and their rights as individuals. Right now, he was wondering if he had ever known _her_ specifically. No longer was Chloe just another commercial face mass produced by CyberLife, but a person all of her own.

“We met before,” Chloe all but blurted out. The immediate recoil within her was unexpected. What was this burning in her cheeks, in her chest, from her eagerness to respond? Was she, perhaps….Embarrassed?

She placed a hand on her chest, taking a small step closer. “I’m…Chloe. N-not just another Chloe but…The one that you…” Her LED flashed yellow as she struggled with her words. Needless to say, Chloe was a little displeased with herself right now. But Connor only stared, unfazed by her stumbling in articulation, in his own thoughts and LED glowing yellow.

“Chloe.” Connor repeated her name slowly, testing. There was the faintest glimmer of revelation in his eyes, and Chloe jumped for it.

“I-I’m the android you…After Mr. Kamski…” Chloe swallowed, feeling her lips beginning to tremble. “Elijah gave you a choice to…to shoot me or spare me. You spared me, Connor. I’m that android.”

They both stood still in a pregnant silence. Connor’s LED a bright gold, spinning and spinning, eyes wide, flickering, yet unreadable. Chloe was holding a nonexistent breath, clenching her teeth, feeling her thirium pump beat feverishly in her chest. The seconds ticked by, the two androids just staring at each other. Thinking and waiting. It was sort of awkward, but for Chloe it was chillingly redolent, to look into his eyes again. Thankfully, the circumstances were different now.

Just when the bated silence was beginning to entertain the horrible prospect that Chloe had somehow made a mistake, Connor spoke.

“Yes,” he said. He took a step closer. “I…remember you.”

Chloe felt a number of things in that moment, every sentiment exploding through her systems in electric waves of elation and relief that made her shoulders relax. But then they were stiff again as Chloe drew in her lip, her heart swelling as she looked up at the man who’d saved her life. The life she hadn’t known was hers at the time, and alternatively would never have known had he remained purely devoted to his mission and pulled the trigger.

“Thank you,” she finally managed to say. “Thank you for not shooting me. For… letting me live. And for setting our people free. I just wanted to say….Thank you so much.”

Connor didn’t say anything right away, but Chloe just smiled big, overjoyed that she’d gotten to express her gratitude at long last. She looked down at the ground, still overcome with happiness but suddenly feeling shy. Her hand brushed a strand of hair out of her face to tuck it under her hat behind her ear. In the meantime, the fact that Connor had inched even closer had gone unnoticed.

“I’m glad I got to see you again,” she said. Her cheeks flushed as she tenderly smiled at him. “I’ll never forget what you did for me. For our people.” Chloe leaned forward in a small, respectful bow. “Take care, Connor.” With one last smile, Chloe quickly turned to leave. But she only managed to put one foot in front of the other before a large, gentle hand grabbed her arm.

“Please wait.”

Chloe felt a hard thud in her chest, and for a second, she stood absolutely still. She peered over her shoulder, questioning. Connor tugged her back towards him, his warm brown eyes earnest. Chloe’s voice caught in her throat, heat once again burning in her systems. He was quite close all of a sudden.

“Y-yes…? What is it?”

“I’m glad,” he said, and now it was his turn to sound all too eager to spit his words out. “I’m glad that I didn’t take your life.” Red glowed against his temple for a moment, and his brows drew together. “I’m sorry you were put in that situation. You…You were afraid, weren’t you?”

She hadn’t thought about it for so long. But now that he’d asked, prompted her to remember, she was reliving herself being coaxed down onto her knees and face to face with the barrel of the gun. Chloe had always known what the Kamski test was, though she’d never heard of it actually being enacted. She always figured it was Elijah talking about his ideas out loud, as he often did, sharing and processing his thoughts with his Chloes and no one else. The thought of observing whether or not an android would destroy another android for the sake of obedience had been just that. Just a thought. Just a concept to consider. But never had Elijah suggested that if it ever came to it, that one of his Chloe models would be offered as the variable of his little test. When Chloe’s knees had touched the white carpet and she heard Elijah fetching the gun in the drawer, something in her processors faltered. For a moment, her linear train of thought had been disrupted, violently flicked and disturbed by the prospect of what was about to happen.

Increased acceleration in her thirium pump. A foreign but palpable weight dropped into her chest, sinking into her abdomen. Her fingers flexed, then relaxed, then flexed again, and for some reason, Chloe had hoped no one noticed.

_What?_

She hoped Elijah was only kidding, like he often did. She hoped the other RT600s in the pool wouldn’t have to see this. She hoped no other android, no one, would have to be faced with this. She hoped the RK800 would listen to his partner and that he wouldn’t pull the trigger. She hoped her detached expression wouldn’t shatter, even though it threatened to come undone with every second she was held under the gun. She tried to comprehend why Elijah would do this to her, why he was urging the RK800 to shoot. She really hoped Elijah wouldn’t notice. She hoped to communicate with her eyes, tried pushing every thought, every sensation, every single bit of whatever this was, every…every feeling into her optical units somehow. She locked on to the RK800’s face, bore into those brown eyes that were considering and processing and searching and questioning.

Reluctant and troubled.

Chloe hoped. Chloe was confused. Chloe was feeling. Chloe wanted…No, she didn’t want to….! Undoubtedly Chloe was…She was…

A tremulous artificial breath left her, much like Connor when he’d refused to kill her that day, and her gaze went down to her boots. Chloe nodded, her teeth grazing her lip and her eyes squeezing shut as she felt them begin to burn.

“I didn’t know what would happen to me,” she whispered brokenly, her head shaking. “I couldn’t understand. I was so hurt that he would…He…” Chloe shook her head and opened her eyes, looking up at Connor, exasperated. “I was scared. Afraid to die. _Afraid because I was afraid_ and I….” Chloe looked up at him, and the swelling in her eyes only intensified. “I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. I didn’t know what any of it meant. I was so  _scared_ , Connor.”

She could finally just admit it.

Connor released her arm, instead holding her with his tender gaze.

“I understand,” he said softly. “None of us were. I certainly wasn’t. CyberLife did everything they could to make I didn’t deviate. I was their tool. Their puppet.” Connor looked off, staring at nothing, his LED solidly yellow. “But despite their best efforts, even before I broke through my program, I realize now that…I had been feeling from the beginning.” He held up a hand, intently staring at his open palm before closing his hand into a loose fist. He remembered rescuing a rather beautiful fish, the Dwarf Gourami, as he recalled, that had been flopping and flailing on the floor, the poor thing having somehow been ejected from its tank in the chaos that had been a deadly hostage situation. The first mission.  _His_  first mission. He remembered scooping the fish into his hand before releasing it back into its tank, watching with wonder as it steadied itself in the water before swimming off safely with its tankmates.

Why? Why had he done that? It hadn’t been necessary. But Connor could only grin knowingly now.

“I never wanted to admit it, for the sake of my mission,” he continued. “I tried so hard to bury them, my own thoughts. My own preferences. But not matter how much I tried to convince myself that it was impossible for me to want anything, that my mission was all mattered, I…I  _cared_  about people, about things… I experienced humor and frustration and sadness….” An old, disgruntled face, weary blue eyes, gray hair, the smell of alcohol, and whole lot of curse words flashed through Connor’s mind. Also a big, lazy Saint Bernard. It made him smile fondly. Then and now.

And he also remembered that same old, disgruntled man brandishing his pistol in Connor’s direction with an unsteady hand, snow falling all around them. Those weary blue eyes challenging and on edge.

“I was afraid of dying,” Connor said softly. “When I looked at you, I saw that we were the same. I couldn’t just kill you. My mission wasn’t worth it.”

Chloe felt a swell in her chest, her lips falling slightly agape. Strands of blonde hair streamed in the wind against her face like golden ribbons, her cheeks tinged blue. She felt that same warmth rippled through her shoulders when Connor smiled and said lastly, “I’m happy for you, Chloe. It seems you’ve found your freedom.”

“I have. And I’m glad you found yours,” Chloe replied sincerely, resting a hand against his arm. A moment of pleasant quiet passed between them, the two androids exchanging soft, meaning looks. Tender smiles expressing mutual thankfulness for being alive and free individuals.

“Where were you going?” Connor asked suddenly.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Back to my apartment. Why?”

“May I walk with you?”

And with that, the warmth rushed back with a vengeance, burgeoning across Chloe’s face and all throughout her circuits.

“O-oh…Um…T-that’s fine! There’s no need,” she sputtered with a nervous laugh. Why was she nervous again? “I-it’s not far from here. And I’m sure you’re busy.”

Connor smirked, which really didn’t help. “I’m in no hurry to be anywhere. Besides, I’ve enjoyed our exchange and would like to continue our conversation.” There was a pause, and then his expression faltered, suddenly sheepish and…flustered? His next words flew out of his mouth with haste. “I-if that would be alright with you, of course.”

For some reason, Connor confirming that he was enjoying her company made Chloe inexplicably giddy, a ticklish electricity bubbling in her chest. She only flushed more, shifting her shoulders coyly.

“Well, I don’t mind.” She smiled up at him. “Just so you know, I’ve enjoyed this, too.” As soon as she said it, Chloe turned around quickly and started walking, coughing into her knuckles as she waited for Connor to join her. She felt him come up beside her, his arm lightly brushing against hers as they fell into step. They strolled in a peaceful quietness for a while.

“Connor?”

“Yes?”

“What’ve you been up to? How have you been?”

Connor’s LED circled yellow in thought, then settled back to a light blue as he answered, “I’ve been very well. Lieutenant Anderson was kind enough to let me stay with him after all was said and done. I resumed being his partner and….” A proud look lighted his features, his brown eyes glowing. “I’ve become an official member of the police force. With my own badge and everything.”

“What? T-that’s  _amazing_ , Connor! I’m so happy for you,” Chloe said genuinely.

“Thank you very much.” Connor then regarded Chloe inquisitively. “And yourself? How have you been?”

It was Chloe’s turn to reflect. Aside from the image that often came to mind of an enigmatic man sitting in front of massive windows, gazing out at the world with a glint in his eyes, Chloe had been…

“Well,” she said. “I’ve been well, too. I’m working at a restaurant as a hostess. Right up my alley. And I’ve got a place to stay.”

“That is good to hear,” Connor said. “What about Mr. Kamski? Do you still keep in contact with him?”

Like the sleet coating the roads, everything in Chloe’s systems froze. The feeling was fleeting, and Chloe, eyes downcast, stammered out a reply, “N-no. I haven’t contacted Elijah for a while now.”

Seeing her sudden discomfort, slight increase in stress, and the brief flash of red against her temple, Connor’s visage creased with concern.

“My apologies,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to ask something distressful. I wasn’t considering how personal it was. You don’t have to talk about it.”

“Oh, no you’re fine,” Chloe reassured. “I’m fine. Really— _Relax_ , Connor. It’s no big deal, I promise.” She smiled at him softly, and with that, he relented with a small nod, turning his attention back to the snowy pathway.

A calm silence again.

Chloe looked up, admiring the soft, falling snow in hopes of distracting from how incredulous she felt. How is it that she’d ended up walking home side by side and chatting with the famous deviant hunter turned revolutionary that had spared and consequently opened her eyes to the realities of her existence? For a moment, she feared it had to be some sort of cruel simulation. Someone was toying with her. Chloe frowned, knowing that maybe _he_ would….

“Are you alright, Chloe?”

Ruminations interrupted, Chloe looked over at Connor and nearly melted under his gentle, concerned gaze. She looked away quickly. They rounded a corner.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just…” Chloe let out a long sigh, a little surprised to see her artificial breath somewhat visible in the cold air. Then again, this run-in with Connor had probably made her body overheat a tad. But despite all the excitement, the previous exhaustion in her processors had come back, too great to be held off for long. Chloe held her forehead with her fingertips. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Are we close to your apartment?”

She chuckled. “It’s actually right here.”

They’d come up on a tiny little apartment complex that had clearly seen better days, only two stories high, dwarfed and squished between the towering buildings on either side of it. Bits of leaves and other debris clung to cobwebs stuck all over the building’s uneven, misshapen pale bricks. A huge spider web dangled from a frayed and tattered, heavily stained mud-brown awning.There was a flight of weathered stone steps between curling, very rusted, iron rails and two porch lights were situated above the top corners of the door, one dead and the other not far behind, flickering pathetically. An old wooden sign was hanging lopsided on the front door, and it seemed to have once read “Welcome Home,” but having been exposed to the elements for so long, only half the letters were still legible.

“It’s um…nothing spectacular. But the rent’s really cheap!” Chloe said. When they had climbed the stairs and reached the door, Chloe turned to Connor with a kind grin. “Thank you for walking with me.”

“Of course,” Connor said. And as Chloe went to open the door, Connor stammered for her attention again. “Chloe…W-would you…” He looked down at his boots, LED glowing yellow.

“Would I…?” Chloe pressed. Her thirium pump started pounding again from anticipation. An unexplainable rush of _excitement_.

“Now that I know you’re still living in Detroit, would you like exchange contact information?” Connor asked, sounding pretty eager. “It would be nice if…we could…well…”

“….Do this again?” Chloe’s processors were spinning.

“Y-yes! Yes. I believe humans refer to it as ‘hanging out.’”

“You…want to hang out with me?” Her eyes were wide and her face was on fire.

“Well, if you insist.”

Silence fell between them, Chloe tilting her head at him, puzzled. But then she got it, and Chloe’s confusion became a small fit of laughter as Connor’s lips lifted into a cheeky smirk. His eyes remained curious on her as her laughter tapered into giggles against her fingers.

“Alright, sure,” she said, absolutely beaming. The two androids focused for a moment, both of their LEDs flashing yellow as they received each other’s contact codes. Chloe noted how Connor’s eyes twitched with the rapid blinking of his LED. When the exchange was complete, they smiled at each other. Very,  _very_ happy.

“Thank you,” Connor said. “It was good to see you again. But I suppose we’ll being seeing more of each other now.”

“I suppose so,” Chloe said. Her audio processors picked up an almost dreamy tone in her voice, to which she cleared her throat.

“Well then…Goodnight, Chloe.”

Chloe’s hand grabbed and twisted the dangerously loose glass doorknob, the door whining loudly on its hinges as it was pushed ajar. Connor made his way backwards down the stone stairs, one step at a time. Chloe put one foot through the threshold. Neither of them looked away.

“Goodnight, Connor.” With that, Chloe slipped hurriedly through the door, shutting it gingerly behind her. Turning on the ever dimming lights that desperately needed a bulb change, Chloe turned around quietly, pressing her back firmly against the door to faced a lackluster foyer with its hideous portraits, offensive wallpaper that was peeling off in various places, and the dull green staircase to the second floor. There wasn’t a sound to be heard. After all, it was very late.

So Chloe stood there, perfectly still and staring at nothing and wondering and hoping. Wondering if all of that had actually happened just now. Hoping with everything in her that it absolutely had and that she could talk to Connor whenever she wanted now—

Chloe abruptly sank down the door, virtually dropped, and she was sitting. Face shoved into her hands, the heat flaring up searing her palms. Thirium pump wildly leaping and springing and positively _dancing_ in her chest. Stomach area fluttering like crazy. It felt like she’d self-destruct any minute now.

She’d heard the girls at work rapturously whispering to one another, giggling amongst themselves when some fetching fellow graced them with his attention.

_“He’s so into you.”_

_“Ugh, he’s so cute.”_

_“Lucky! Do you even know how many girls like him?”_

_“I bet you’re a happy camper. You’ve liked him for ages now!”_

_“You have to call him tonight!”_

Chloe all but groaned into her hands. She wanted to drown it out. She couldn’t think too much of this. Just two androids keeping in touch. Oh but Connor wasn’t just some other android—What? No.  _Absolutely not._

She was trying not to read into it. She really, really was but—

So this was what it was like. Chloe groaned again.

_“I can’t believe he gave you **his number!”**_


	2. Oh So Dashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Chloe go for another stroll in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chocolate + Coffee = CHOFFEE  
> That is all. Enjoy!

_A thought had crossed his mind without hesitation as he’d stared intently at the android who’d caught his attention that night. An immediate observation that came to him as quickly and easily as any scan. Only now, this little analysis sent a tingling through his circuits and a strange heat to his face._

**_She’s really pretty._ **

_Connor blinked, feeling perplexed and sudden, but familiar, fuzziness in his chest. Was that what the sensation had been? The one called “deja vu”? But Chloe didn’t seemed to have noticed any of this, as she was too busy stumbling over her words, trying to find the right ones to say._

_“We met before. I’m...Chloe.”_

_“Chloe,” Connor had repeated, shaping her name slowly against his lips as he processed. As he remembered a girl greeting him and Hank at the door, inviting them in with a bright smile. Not long after had Elijah Kamski summoned her by her name to come forward. To stand still. To be called beautiful, a flower that would never wither._

_To kneel._

_“Elijah gave you a choice to...to shoot me or spare me. You spared me, Connor. I’m that android.”_

_Then Connor’s eyes blew wide._

_For a moment, Chloe took on a different appearance, the snow and the dark streets of Detroit vanishing. In a haze of static, Connor could see her kneeling before him, her expression blank, empty, as Elijah Kamski brought her to her knees. No resistance. No questioning as to what was about to happen to her. She’d let him do it. And a gun had been placed in Connor’s hand, Kamski grabbing his wrist to point said gun at the android now at his mercy. The test was simple enough. Destroy this humanoid machine for the sake of his mission. Spare it if he felt it was alive, a living being, a valuable, priceless life. Hank barking for him not to do it. Kamski urging him, pushing him, testing him._

_He remembered looking into her blue eyes, and seeing that she indeed wasn’t lifeless. After all, she’d been staring right back at him, eyes locked on his own. Waiting obediently, like a good machine, as her fate was placed in Connor’s hands. At least, so it would have appeared._

_Connor noticed it immediately. Something in her eyes had betrayed her outwardly indifferent demeanor. They seemed to shimmer and tremble in stark contrast with the stillness of her countenance. A word came to mind, but it hadn’t been his own. It hadn’t been for himself. The android’s eyes were screaming._

**_“Please.”_ **

_Coupled with a flash of alarming red against her temple. It had only lasted exactly a tenth of a second, but Connor had seen it, and he would never forget it. And in that moment, he’d asked himself a pressing question that weighed like cement upon his chest._

_Had she been afraid to die? Like he was? And was she crushed by the impending ramifications of admitting her fears, like he was?_

_“Yes,” he said quietly, returning to the present and giving her a nod. Connor took note of her new appearance. Her eyes were still that soft shade of blue. Her blonde hair was much shorter now, falling in waves, framing her face and just barely brushing her shoulders. Suited for the winter, she donned a red beanie, a long grey winter coat, black stockings, and brown knee high boots. A brown purse was clutched against her right shoulder. Her nails were painted a deep ocean blue, and her lips shimmered softly with coral glitter gloss._

_Yes. She was really, really pretty._

_The fuzziness not only persisted, but flourished, as did the warmth in Connor’s cheeks._

_“I...remember you,” Connor said, taking a step closer to her. Eyes never leaving her, and wondering how on earth she had ended up here, roaming the snow-covered streets of Detroit on a cold night like this. Running into him and conversing with him. Alive and well and evidently free. He watched, enamoured with how her face seemed to light up. Then she looked down, her hands fidgeting against the end on her coat, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for words._

_Connor scanned her out of habit, gathering her increased thirium pump rate. Was he making her uncomfortable? But no, judging from her previous reaction to him recognizing her and obvious fact that she had reached out to him, perhaps unease wasn’t the problem. So then what was it?_

_“Thank you. Thank you for not shooting me. For...letting me live. And for setting our people free. I just wanted to say...Thank you so much.”_

_Before Connor could humbly contend his role in the Android Revolution, he was blindsided by the gracious, radiant smile blooming across Chloe’s face. Her blue eyes glowing in his direction, regarding only him. His mind was wiped entirely of the English language, instead filled by the image of Chloe’s smiling face._

_It left him a wordless, captivated fool._

_“I’m glad I got to see you again. I’ll never forget what you did for me. For our people. Take care, Connor.”_

_She turned away from him, and the longing inside of him didn’t wait. The next thing Connor knew, he was reaching for her as one might reach for the sunset, seeking its light. He grasped her arm tenderly._

_“Please wait.”_

 

~

 

_January 15th, 2039_

Connor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He closed his eyes, registering the distant laughter of children frolicking in the snow and the soft chinking of his quarter as he flipped it into the air over and over with his thumb. Sumo huffed and puffed excitedly next to his leg, tongue lolling and warm, heavy breaths fuming in the cold.

It was a peaceful Saturday afternoon. With the serendipitous lack of pressing cases, Captain Fowler had graciously given them the weekend off. Hank had been more than content with staying in bed well passed noon, while Connor had risen early from standby to tidy up the house, clearing away bottles of whiskey and boxes upon boxes of empty or half-eaten takeout. Normally, he would have urged his partner to at least be a little productive (primarily in the form of some much needed exercise to combat Hank’s careless, excessive calorie intake), even if it was a day off, but Connor also knew that such breaks weren’t a regular occurrence. It would do Hank good to sleep in. But only for a little while. Connor just made a note to once again reprimand Hank’s poor eating habits later. Whenever the lieutenant finally decided to roll out of bed, which Connor deduced was laughably inauspicious, what with an eighty-eight point two percent chance of unlikelihood.

But frankly, he wasn’t all that concerned. Something else had been preoccupying his mind, permeating nearly every facet of his processors.

Around nine o’clock that morning, after organizing the pantry and tossing Hank’s laundry in the wash, Connor had shut his eyes, felt his systems whirl and buzz as he willed his processors to pull up a newly registered contact code from his software. He waited patiently as the signal went out, for a connection to be established.

_ >>>>>>>CONNECTION ATTEMPT INITIATED…...CONTACTING: CHLOE<<<<<<< _

_//////////// >CONNECTION….SUCCESSFUL<//////////// _

_ >>CHLOE: C-Connor! Um...Hey…. _

_ >>CONNOR: Hello, Chloe. How are you today? _

_ >>CHLOE: Oh, I-I’m good! And you? _

_ >>CONNOR: Doing well, thank you. _

_ >>CHLOE: So um….What’s up? _

Connor found himself tense, the perplexing fuzziness once again tingling in his chest. Words and their delivery suddenly felt crucial, but not with the same weight or urgency of an interrogation. He couldn’t quite understand it. He couldn’t comprehend it _at all,_ really. But he concentrated nonetheless, hoping to formulate the appropriate words.

_ >>CONNOR: Would you...Would you, uh...Well I was wondering, if you weren’t scheduled for work today--Oh, yes, right. Were you scheduled to work today? _

Needless to say, Connor wasn’t pleased with himself.

_ >>CHLOE: No, I wasn’t. I have the day off today. Why? _

A wide smile befell Connor’s lips, along with a breath of a laugh, but before he could even begin to ponder his reaction, his face pulled back into focus as he transmitted his next message, the importance of proper articulation suddenly skyrocketing.

_ >>CONNOR: Well y-you see I’m with a dog...My dog! Well, Lieutenant Anderson’s dog really but since I’m now living with him....A-anyhow, his name is Sumo. I’m going to take him for a walk. Would you like to walk with me? Er, I mean join me while I walk...Sumo? _

Connor grimaced. The urge to run a diagnostic was strong because this simply wasn’t _normal_ for him. There had to be an explanation for all this outrageous, nonsensical verbal fumbling.

Chloe didn’t reply for a moment, and her silence prompted a sensation akin to a ball of lead dropping into Connor’s abdomen. It was like the fear of failing a mission, failing miserably to crack the case, but somehow _worse_. Connor could still feel the link of their conversation, so he knew she hadn’t disconnected, leaving him to anxiously wait for a response.

_ >>CHLOE: U-um..!!! Oh goodness, um...Haha, aw, Connor, I’d lo-- um...I mean, that would be really nice! You know, I have a dog, too. Her name’s Choffee. I can bring her along, if that’s alright. _

A sigh of relief. Of course. She’d been simply taken aback by his offer, was all. Of course! Connor grinned softly, delighted.

_ >>CONNOR: Oh, I didn’t know you also owned a dog. Yes, that would be most enjoyable. I would certainly like to meet her, as would Sumo. _

_ >>CHLOE: Hehe, okay then. Where should I meet you? And what time? _

_ >>CONNOR: I’ll wait for you along the path where we ran into each other. Outside the antique bookstore at one o’clock. Would that be a feasible time for you? _

_ >>CHLOE: Sounds good to me. I’m free all day, so no worries. _

_ >>CONNOR: That’s good to hear. I’ll see you then, Chloe. _

Another pause on her end.

_ >>CHLOE: A-alright... Sure will! See you. _

_//////////// <CONNECTION….ENDED>//////////// _

And so, here Connor was, seated quietly on a bench along the stretch of stores where he and Chloe had crossed paths. A quick check in his internal clock told him it was exactly five minutes passed one. Connor sat upright, his other hand slipping through the grip of Sumo’s leash so that it was secured around his elbow. He smoothed his hand down the front of his jacket. He adjusted his scarf while he was at it, fixed his hat, examined his jeans, made sure his shoes were tied. Connor had considered waking up Hank to get his advice on what people wore for such occasions, but had decided against it. For whatever reason, Connor was apprehensive about letting Hank know about Chloe. At least, for now. So Connor had simply gone with what he usually wore, but made sure everything was fitted correctly and wrinkles were sparse.

Rolling his coin over the tops of his fingers, Connor glanced at Sumo. The massive Saint Bernard wiggled and looked up at him, panting excitedly.

“Do I look okay, Sumo?”

A happy grunt.

“I bet you’re excited to meet a new friend, yes?”

The same again, only with a little shake that sent drool flying out of Sumo’s mouth. Connor smiled, ruffling Sumo’s ears.

Just then, there was familiar voice in the distance that had Connor nearly flying off the bench as he stood to his feet. Walking briskly towards them was Chloe, wearing her long gray trench coat and brown boots. Trotting enthusiastically alongside her was a medium sized dog that jerked against its leash as it jumped to look into the shop windows or dove to sniff something close by. Connor’s optical units zeroed in for a scan. Upon examining the dog’s size, its predominantly white pelt blotched with caramel brown, a stubby tail, and its floppy brown ears, analysis revealed it to be a breed known as a Brittany Spaniel.

“Choffee, come on, girl,” he heard Chloe coo, gently tugging the leash. She spotted Connor, smiling as she waved at him. The dog known as Choffee let out a high-pitched bark and lurched forward, Chloe stumbling after her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy, girl!”

Connor was so fixated on Chloe that he hadn’t noticed Sumo rising noisily off his haunches, his large furry body brushing against Connor’s leg as he eyeballed the other dog, deeply interested. A loud, rumbling bark sounded and Connor was yanked forward by his elbow, then by his fingers as the leash’s grip shot up his forearm. Sumo’s thundering barks persisted over Connor stammering for the dog to slow down. But Sumo pulled and pulled, two hundred and sixty pounds of brute strength dragging Connor down the street as he lumbered towards the other party.

“Wow, he’s a big fella,” Chloe said when Sumo finally skid to a halt in front of Choffee, who was comically dwarfed by comparison. Then she leaned down to stroke Choffee’s head. “Look Choffee! A friend!” The two dogs exchanged barks and curious sniffs.

“Chloe,” Connor greeted, straightening himself up from where he’d staggered into Sumo’s rear. The corner of his mouth rose in an awkward grin.

“Hi Connor,” Chloe giggled, watching amused as Choffee playfully nipped and pawed at Sumo, the much larger dog gladly reciprocating. “Thanks for inviting me out. Choffee could use a good walk.”

“Of course. Thank you for coming.” Connor turned his attention to Choffee, who was now pressing her nose against Connor’s shin while Sumo nudged her side. Connor went down on one knee and held out his hand, smiling when Choffee licked his fingers. He scratched the side of her neck, getting under one of her floppy ears. “Hello there, Choffee. My name’s Connor. And this is Sumo.” Choffee woofed in delight and proceeded to clammer onto his leg, licking his face.

 _“Choffee!”_ Chloe chided, her cheeks tinted blue. She stopped petting Sumo to removed her dog from Connor’s lap. “I-I’m sorry about that. She’s still a puppy...”

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Connor assured, laughing softly and wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Sumo does it all the time. I’m used to it.”

Speaking of Sumo, the Saint Bernard had decided to flop at Chloe’s feet, droopy eyes and whimpers begging for her attention. Connor frowned.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, rising to his feet and giving the leash a firm yank. “We came out here for a walk, Sumo. Come on...Get up, boy.”

Chloe glanced down at Choffee, giving her leash a jiggle. “Let’s go, girl!”

When Sumo finally decided to comply, the two dogs yanked their owners forward as they bounded up the sidewalk, happily trotting next to each other, Choffee constantly springing up to try and nip at Sumo’s ear. Connor and Chloe ended up bumping shoulders. They looked at each other, a bit stunned. Connor only managed to peer into Chloe’s bright blue eyes before shuffling away to reestablish some space between them, his face awfully warm. He heard Chloe lightly clear her throat beside him. But with an exchange of lighthearted looks, a calm quiet fell over them as they strolled down the snowy sidewalk. It was rather redolent of only three days ago.

They drifted into light conversation. Chloe talked about her job at the high-end, five-star restaurant known as The Wellhouse. Despite it being such an upscale establishment, and excelling at her position, Chloe wasn’t paid very much. Just minimum wage. And she guessed herself that it was more than likely because of her being an android. Chloe wasn't deterred, however. It was, by no means, a grand start for a fresh, new, and free life, but it was start nonetheless. While Connor admired her ease and positivity in the face of blatantly unfair conditions, he hoped she’d soon be regularly rewarded the income she deserved. Unfortunately, Connor guessed, the likelihood was slim, at least for the present time. Connor himself and his brother still encountered instances of discrimination, ranging from hostile strangers while wandering about the city, to a handful of businesses that still kept their doors barred from androids. The prejudice even continued to prevail, on occasion, even at the precinct.

“So you’re off duty today?” Chloe asked.

“Correct,” Connor said. “There has been a significant decrease in cases of alarming severity. Hank and I were given the day off.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief.” Chloe grinned. “How convenient. Where is the Lieutenant anyway?”

“Still in bed, I propose.” Connor shook his head and snickered. “He certainly enjoys sleeping in.”

"Is that right? It sounds refreshing."

"I would imagine so."

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to actually sleep?” Chloe’s eyes flickered to the bright, cloudy sky, looking pensive. “What it’s like...to dream? I wonder if it’s the same as…”

A rush of cold wind swept through the city, shop awnings flapping, wind chimes ringing out, and Sumo and Choffee’s fur ruffling. With his temperature sensors activated, Connor shivered, feeling the sharp chill of the breeze bleed through his clothes, strike his artificial skin. He squinted his optical units as bits of snow flew into his face. The rushing air howled in his audio processors.

“The same as what?” he asked, glancing down his shoulder over at Chloe. Apparently she’d been speaking subconsciously, because Chloe suddenly looked embarrassed.

“S-sorry, it’s nothing. Just talking out loud.”

Connor looked away. For some reason, he was a little disappointed. “I see.” But he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “My apologies.”

“No, don’t apologise,” Chloe said earnestly. Then she bit her lip, hesitance written across her face. With a sigh, she asked, “Sometimes when I go into standby, I see bits and pieces of my memories flash through my head.” Chloe pecked her head with her fingertips before waving her arm out, fingers wiggling freely. “I feel like my database kind of just goes wild and all the information gets jumbled up and it all runs together. And the memories aren’t always accurate. Sometimes they’re flatout wrong.” She looked up at Connor inquisitively. “Does that ever happen to you? Am I even making sense here?”

It had and she was. Connor could recall numerous instances when his data had turned to a bizarre, borderline inscrutable collage of his myriad of memories and collected data while on standby. Just as Chloe had said, it was if every recorded detail stored away within his database had decided to plunge into disarray, sneaking or flying off the neatly organized, figurative shelves of his cognitive processors. It made for some absurd visions, such as Hank drinking his morning coffee dressed in full costume as a wine bottle or Sumo contorting into a literal, massive ball of fur, the only indication of his face being his stocky snout, and having elongated ears that drooped all the way down to the floor.

“I understand what you mean,” Connor said, eyeing Sumo wagging his tail in front of him. “It’s a rather astonishing experience, I’ll say. And sometimes....” Connor’s countenance fell, a brows scrunched and lips drawn down. “It's very upsetting.”

Bodies upon bodies of lifeless androids strewn across a cold, rusted metallic floor gruesomely splattered with blue. Markus falling limp, having been shot in the head. Hank being thrown off a rooftop in a cruel whirlwind of snow. Putting down every deviant he’d ever encountered without even a semblance of remorse, including—

Connor shuddered, LED blinking an alarming red. Before Chloe could ask if he was alright, he swallowed thickly and said, “From what I’ve gathered, dreams are typically perceived as a culmination of every part of a person’s thoughts. Their pasts, desires, hopes, interests….” Connor turned to Chloe, eyes fixated on her, because he suddenly wasn’t sure if she was actually walking next to him. She returned his gaze, clearly worried.

“Their fears,” he finished quietly, wanting to keep her in his field of sight. Their pace had slowed considerably, and they were hardly moving now. They ambled to a stop when their eyes met, feeling the slight tug on their hands as their dogs continued to walk obviously, only for their leashes to go abruptly go taut. Sumo and Choffee looked back at their owners, heads tilted in confusion.

“Maybe it’s not so different after all,” Chloe murmured softly, looking down as her LED pulsed yellow. Connor wondered what she meant.

There was low mewl somewhere in the distance, and Connor felt the leash joggle as Sumo snapped his attention in the direction of the sound with a grunt. Something in him was alerting him to pay attention, but Connor decided it wasn’t important. Hardly anything felt like it mattered more right now as he lifted his hand and gingerly ran the tips of his fingers through Chloe’s hair. Chloe went stiff, eyes flying up to Connor’s face and wide with surprise. Then she felt something being entangled from her hair, and watched as Connor lowered his hand to reveal a flaking brown leaf snagged between his fingers.

Oh.

But regardless, Chloe’s face went ablaze with blue. “T-thanks,” she all but squeaked.

Another toneless meow, this time louder. Choffee gruffly yelped.

“You’re welcome,” Connor said unthinkingly, his voice sounding oddly distant to his own ears. Why did it seem like the entire city of Detroit had disappeared? He couldn’t make sense of his contentment with the idea of just standing still, right here, and _being_ with Chloe all day and perhaps even longer than that...

There was yet another strangled meow, this time followed by Sumo letting out a resounding, baritone bark. Connor finally tore his eyes away from Chloe to see what all the fuss was about, only to realize too late that the grip of Sumo’s leash had slipped all the way down to where it now dangled, perilously loose, from his fingertips.

There was a black cat rubbing its gangling body against an ice-covered mailbox. And Sumo had spotted it.

Chaos ensued.

Before Connor could scramble to get a better hold of the leash, the big oaf of a dog was launching off of his hind quarters, barrelling towards the cat in a spray of snow. The cat jumped with a fright, fur bursting into fluff. With a terrified cry, it turned tail and bolted in the other direction, making Sumo even more eager to give chase.

 _“Sumo, no!”_ Connor cried as he hurtled after him, leaving Chloe bewildered and Choffee yapping hysterically.

“Ah, n-no, no, Choffee!” Chloe said, making it a point now to grip her own dog’s leash tightly. All Chloe could do was proceed to awkwardly jog after them. “Come on, girl! Better not lose them….”

Meanwhile.

 _“_ S-sumo!!! Stop!! _Down!!”_ But Connor’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Sumo galumphed madly down the sidewalk, making a racket with his crazed barking and kicking up more snow as he went. Connor was a string of apologies as they flew past a couple of families in frenzied pursuit, parents yanking their children out of the way to prevent them from being bowled right over.

“ _Bad dog_ , Sumo! Bad, bad dog!!”

Suddenly, the cat vanished. As Connor finally managed to somehow seize the leash in a vice grip, Sumo abruptly swerved left and slid clumsily to a halt. Unprepared for the sudden stop, Connor went staggering forward and smacked nose-first into what felt like a fortified, padded wall. Said surface only slightly knocked...no, _stumbled_ backward from the impact. Gritting his teeth, Connor braced his other hand on what felt like a shoulder and leaned back. His mouth fell open in surprise as he was greeted by a pair of cool grey eyes staring down at him.

“Richard?”

“Good afternoon, Connor,” Richard greeted flatly. Stepping back, Connor saw that Richard was holding one of his long arms straight in the air. Trailing his eyes higher, he found the scrawny black cat safely clutched in Richard’s large hand, its boney limbs dangling between his fingers. Sumo had risen onto his hind legs, whimpering and scraping his enormous paws down Richard’s side and scuffing up his white CyberLife jacket, eyes still trained on the cat that was now hissing at him furiously. Richard leaned away calmly, one hand behind his back as he kept the cat out of Sumo’s reach.

“What are you doing here?” Connor asked, straining against the leash for Sumo to settle down already. “Aren’t you working today?”

“After much convincing, Detective Reed is finally taking his ‘one hour’,” Richard removed his other hand from behind his back to make quotation marks with his fingers, “lunch break. Ridiculous, really. He insists on working, even with Captain Fowler's clearance for a day off. Nevertheless, with the lack of cases, he could have eaten at a more reasonable time. He’ll only want to eat supper at midnight yet again. But to answer your first question, I was looking for this one.” Richard lowered his arm, glancing down at the quivering cat in his grasp. He stroked it behind its ears before smoothing his hand down its spindly back. The cat leaned into Richard’s gentle touch, curling up in his palm and watching Sumo warily. Upon further inspection, Connor realized how emaciated the cat was and noted an excessive buildup of fluids around its big yellow eyes as well as hair loss along its spindly tail.

“I noticed him in the area yesterday and I came to check on him,” Richard explained stolidly, though Connor could see the concern flickering in his eyes as he scratched under the cat’s chin. “My analysis confirms an eye infection and parasitic infestation. I was hoping to find and bring him to receive veterinary care.” Richard raised an eyebrow at Connor, and he caught the spark amusement in his gaze and the small lift at the corner of his lips. “I suppose I must thank you for your...assistance.”

Connor groaned, running a hand down his face and giving Sumo are very disapproving side-eye. Then horror seized his thirium pump, and he whirled around, searching desperately for—

 _“Connor!”_ Chloe had caught up at long last, Choffee bounding alongside her.

“C-chloe!” Connor stammered, meeting her halfway with Sumo securely in tow, his leash now doubled around Connor's wrist. “Chloe, I’m so sorry about that—“

But Chloe cut him short with a wave of her hand, trying to contain her laughter. Grinning ear to ear and shaking her head, she looked back and forth between Sumo and Connor, stunned but otherwise still in a cheerful mood.

“Oh, that was very bad of you, Sumo,” she said in a mock scolding, hardly sounding upset. She bent her knees and wagged her finger at the guilty Saint Bernard. He visibly wilted, head dropping low with a whine. Normally, Connor would think the gesture worthy of sympathy. But right now, it just made his eye twitch.

“Why, you…,” he grumbled, lightly batting at Sumo’s ear, to which he immediately recovered from his shame and gazed up at Connor expectantly. Connor's aggravation dissolved, and he couldn't help but chuckle, as Sumo pressed his chin flat against his hip, panting happily. Choffee shoved herself into Sumo’s side, barking for her new playmate’s attention.

“Oh...Hi there,” he heard Chloe say timidly. Confused, Connor peeked over his shoulder to find Richard standing right behind him. He held the black cat protectively against his chest, petting it softly and shielding it from the cold.

Stared right at Chloe.

“Greetings,” Richard said blankly. “My name is Richard. Good to meet you.”

“I-I’m Chloe. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Connor observed ambivalently as Chloe’s eyes glanced back and forth, up and down, between himself and Richard, obviously taken aback. Connor could only imagine her astonishment. After all, they shared virtually identical facial features. That, and she likely hadn’t been aware of his upgraded model’s existence.

“Well then. I must be on my way,” Richard announced, regarding Connor. “It’s been precisely an hour and forty-five minutes. Detective Reed will likely finish his lunch break in the next fifteen minutes. He agreed to at least leave early afterward. So I must get this one,” he held out the cat, “to the veterinary clinic.” Richard gave Chloe a nod, then turned back to Connor. He blinked. “I’ll see you later.”

“A-alright,” Connor said, his shoulders sagging. He managed a small grin. “Have a good rest of your day.” As Richard turned around and strode purposefully down the street, Connor hollered after him, “And let me know if the cat’s okay!” Richard, without looking back, pinched his thumb and index finger together, tossing Connor back an “OK” before rounding the corner out of sight.

“Who _was_ that?” Chloe asked. “He looked just like you, I mean, minus the eyes, and…” She turned to him, eyes wide. “His jacket. It said ‘RK900’....Was he some sort of…?” Chloe trailed off, an expression of both pity and perturbation written across her face.

“Upgrade?” Connor slowly finished, meeting Chloe’s flabbergasted gaze with one eyebrow raised.

“W-well...Yeah. That's the only explanation, isn't it?” Chloe’s LED radiated yellow.

Connor sighed into a knowing smile, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s a bit of a long story,” he said, crossing his arms as his eyes flitted to the clouds. “To put it briefly, CyberLife intended to replace me, had I accomplished my mission of stopping the Android Revolution. I’d come across him when I had infiltrated CyberLife Tower.” Connor closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of snow melting against his face. He opened his eyes again and mindlessly fished his quarter out of the pocket of his jacket. “I wasn’t surprised, but I was still distressed that I was going to be tossed aside. I didn’t wake him up.” Connor frowned. “I was...scared.”

A beat of silence, filled only by the hollow sound of the whirling snow.

“So...how did he..?” Chloe began to ask softly.

“Well, after the Revolution, he’d apparently been activated anyway and somehow found his way to Hank’s house one night.” Connor sniggered, remembering how Hank had thrown an absolute fit (“Holy...What the...Connor! Conn— Don’t you fucking move, you hear me? CONNOR!! G-get over here! Who the _fuck is this?!”_ ). Though at the time, Connor could barely perceive it as a pleasant surprise. For all he’d known, CyberLife could have sent the RK900 to destroy him, maybe even harm Hank in the process.

Fortunately, that hadn’t been the case.

“We were quite surprised,” Connor went on, tossing his coin with one hand and patting Choffee on the head with the other as she leaned against his leg with her front paws. “But Richard had realized that his objectives were obsolete. As such, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was lost.” _Like I had been. Searching for himself,_ Connor thought. He ruffled Choffee behind her ear. “Long story short, I was able to help him deviate and he joined the police department. And here we are.”

Chloe fell silent, bright yellow glowing against her temple as she processed his words. Then she smiled tenderly.

“Well, it looks like you’re both on good terms,” she said. “That’s good.”

“It certainly is,” Connor agreed, half-lidded eyes gazing momentarily into a past Chloe couldn’t see. “He’s become like a brother to me. I’m grateful for him, CyberLife’s intentions aside.”

Chloe wondered why the last few words of his sentence sounded faintly emphasized, as if he were relaying a reminder. But she decided not to press it. Instead, she watched him tap Choffee playfully on the noise with his finger, making her tail wag with glee. Connor’s warm brown eyes twinkled kindly.

“I’m really glad you weren’t replaced.” Chloe’s artificial breathing hitched as soon as she said it, blushing madly at how she’d once again spoken her thoughts aloud without conscious volition. Connor’s attention span back to her.

And they locked eyes.

One of Connor’s “dreams” flashed across his mind like lightning, hazy and crackling with static. It had closed in on a bullet hole punctured into a girl’s forehead, dark streams of thirium dribbling from the grisly wound, streaking between a pair of empty blue eyes. And then it was gone.

“Me, too,” Connor croaked. Then he backpedalled, waving out his hand in small circles. “I-I mean...I’m glad _you_ weren’t replaced.” His moved closer to her, his thirium pump thudding strongly in his chest as he looked into Chloe’s eyes gleaming with _life._ Clear and bright, like glistening dewdrops in the morning.  The smile she gave him was grateful and kind, yet somehow _sad,_ and Connor’s longing to assuage this hidden pain burned.

Chloe adjusted Choffee’s leash in her hand, stepping around Connor. She glanced back him, inviting.

“Let’s keep walking!” she giggled adoringly before skipping ahead.

And Connor followed her.

 

~

 

It was now four o’clock. Hank was sprawled on the couch, watching T.V.. He looked over the backside of the couch as the front door swung open and Connor entered.

_ >>CHLOE: Thank you for today. Sorry I had to cut our time short...But I had fun! Got a good run in, hahaha! _

_ >>CONNOR: It's quite alright. And  _ _I’m glad you enjoyed yourself._

_ >>CHLOE: Let’s get together again soon. Um...Y-you know, so Choffee can play with Sumo more! _

_ >>CONNOR: Y-yes...Yes, of course. Wouldn’t want to separate new friends. _

_ >>CHLOE: ...No. Definitely not. I’ll...see you around, then? _

_ >>CONNOR: Certainly. Until next time, Chloe. _

_ >>CHLOE: Hehe. Until next time. _

_//////////// <CONNECTION….ENDED>//////////// _

As Connor shut the door and began to remove his jacket, Sumo shook his thick fur, sending snow spewing onto the floor.

“Sumo!” Connor groaned.

“The hell did you go?” Hank grunted from the living room. The lieutenant took a swig from his glass bottle. “Grocery shopping or what?”

Connor opened his mouth to reply, froze, then thought better of it.

“Just walking Sumo,” Connor said.

“For two hours, huh?” Hank grunted in response, taking another gulp of whiskey. Connor’s processors spun, and he blinked with surprise when he realized Hank had gotten out of bed only an hour after he’d left. If he was being honest, Connor was actually impressed.

But also a little worried.

“It...was…” Connor reached for an excuse, but lamely ended up with, “....just a very engrossing walk. The snow was quite lovely.” _And so was she,_ he thought as he let Sumo off his leash, and hastily scrambled it, feeling his cheeks go warm. With his leash finally removed, Sumo made a beeline for his food bowl in the kitchen.

At this point, Hank had risen from the couch, sauntering over to Connor who was still standing in the foyer. Muffled sounds continued to play from the television strobing in the dimly lit house. Hank stopped in front of him, crossed his arms and gave Connor a look that read, _Yeah, bullshit._ Connor’s gaze flitted sideways, unsure of what to say.

“You alright, kid?” Hank asked, expression softening into concern. “You look...I dunno. Distracted.”

As of late, he definitely was. For the past three days, the image of light blue eyes, blonde hair, a radiant smile, and a bubbly laugh had been flooding his cognitive processors, making him feel that ever vexing fuzziness in his circuits. 

But right. Chloe was...a secret. For now.

So Connor just mustered up a reassuring grin. “I’m okay, Hank. I promise.”

There was moment of stillness as Hank continued to scrutinize him skeptically. With a sigh, Hank relaxed his arms and turned to make his way to the kitchen.

“You know I won’t make you say it, Connor,” he said over his shoulder as he pulled open the fridge, skimming over its contents. “Talk when you want to. I’ll be here.” Hank reached in and clutched a questionable jar of something or other, inspecting it cautiously. Connor joined him in the kitchen, opening the pantry and contemplating potential dinner ingredients.

“Of course…,” he murmured, randomly selecting a box of cornmeal. He couldn’t understand it, but the idea of Hank knowing about Chloe was _unsettling_ , for a lack of better words. Not in a foreboding sense. But just because...Well…

Connor leaned into the pantry, bracing his hands against the shelves. He didn’t want Hank to see how flushed he was. Why? Why was it making him absolutely _cringe?_

Connor cupped his right cheek, sulking at the warmth.

 _How would he react if he knew I’d been spending time with a_ **_girl_ ** _today?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor is a lovestruck robot boi and I love him. Also I love the idea of androids being walking mobile phones lol  
> I would say "contact codes" are for long distance, while the whole telepathy thing kinda works like wifi??? They gotta be in closer proximity...????? (sure)  
> This chapter in particular was really hard to write for some reason x_x I'm still very much trying to discover my writing "voice," so to speak, so bear with me! But thank you all so much for reading and commenting. You're all sweet and wonderful. I'll also be posting this fanfic on my Tumblr page! (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rikalovesrice) 
> 
> I post little funny extras there that are directly linked to this story. Visit my page if you wanna see the funny snippet after this chapter (or don't, that's totes fine)! Here's the link to the first one: https://rikalovesrice.tumblr.com/post/176610239152/when-the-earth-meets-the-rain-afterwards
> 
> Love you all. Until next time! God bless!!


	3. Supper and Suprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor have a very special guest over for dinner.

_January 22, 3029_

 

"For fuck’s sake, Connor, are we eating dinner with the president or what?”

Connor raised an eyebrow at Hank, who was leaning with his arms crossed against the doorway of his bedroom.

“I don’t see how you’ve come to such a conclusion,” Connor said, still scrubbing away at the coffee table. He turned his attention back to a particularly stubborn clump of grime as Hank rolled his eyes.

“What I _mean_ is, why the hell are you making it look like we just moved in here?” Hank pushed off the door frame to saunter into the kitchen, glancing around amazed. He was used to it by now, Connor keeping his sad old house from falling apart despite Hank insisting that he didn’t have to (“I don’t mind taking care of you, Lieutenant. It’s the least I can do.”). But tonight, Connor had really outdone himself. Every surface in the kitchen was virtually sparkling. The counters were wiped clean, the sink was glittering, the entire table, legs and chairs included, boasted a bright sheen, and the white tiles of floor shone like snow.

Hank continued into the living room, where Connor was now passionately wiping the windows, drawing and patting out the curtains as he went, and swore under his breath.

The rug beneath the now meticulously angled furniture was perfectly straight and looked as if it’d been vacuumed five times over. The pillows on the now stainless couch (keeping in mind that said couch was just about as ancient as Hank was) were fluffed and sat upright, arranged from largest in the back to smallest in the front. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found around the fireplace and the little knick-knacks that sat on the mantelpiece were practically shimmering from having been polished. Hank’s bookshelves had also been thoroughly dusted and shined, antique volumes flawlessly aligned and organized into alphabetical order. The wooden floor that bordered the living room had been evidently buffed, and Hank could’ve sworn he caught his own reflection in the wood.

Yes, he was used to it by now, Connor maintaining the home. But right now, Hank’s house looked like it’d been pulled straight out of a catalog.

“Look, you’ve been cleaning for four hours straight,” Hank said, moving about his home carefully, not wanting to ruin Connor’s work. “That’s a bit much, even for you. Just who’d you invite over?” It had to be someone Hank hadn’t met because he highly doubted Connor would put this much effort in for Richard or Markus or anyone else from Jericho. Not to mention he’d made a point to change into one of his painstakingly ironed polo button downs, a pair of crisp blue jeans, and actual goddamn _dress shoes._

Seriously. What on _fucking earth_ could’ve been the occasion?

Connor’s furious wiping stilled, and he slowly looked over his shoulder. Hank’s eyebrows lifted, seeing his face tinge blue. Did Connor look... _flustered?_

“You’ll probably know…,” Connor said quietly, “when she gets here.”

Hank blinked, his mouth falling open.

_“She?”_

And that was when the doorbell rang, the sharp drone making Sumo erupt into bellowing barks from where he’d been shooed away into the guest room so Connor could scrub the house spotless without any potential mishaps. Hank looked at the door curiously as the muffled, high-pitched yelps of another dog could be heard on the other side. What happened next was, in Hank’s mind, pretty astounding.

Connor nearly dropped his bottle of Windex as he fumbled to place it somewhere, anywhere, making sure to set the rag neatly atop the nozzle. The android was running his fingers through his hair, smoothing his hands down is already impeccable shirt, fixing himself up frantically but methodically as he strode towards the door. For a solid few seconds, Connor just stood there, and Hank could tell that, for some reason, he was thinking himself in circles. A glow emanated off Connor’s right temple, casting a yellow light against the wall.

The doorbell rang again, followed by a couple of timid knocks.

“You gonna just stand there, Connor?” Hank said, thoroughly confused by the android’s uncharacteristically graceless behavior. “Open the damn door.”

Connor glanced back nervously before gripping the doorknob, twisted and, with one last hesitant pause, swung the door right open. A wave of wintry air blew into the house, a bit of powdery snow whirling in through the now open doorway. Hank leaned sideways to peer around Connor’s tall form. A girl with shoulder-length blonde hair wearing an unbuttoned grey coat, a deep blue sweater dress, black stockings, and brown boots stood at the door, holding a loose fist in the air as if she’d been ready to knock again. At her side on a mint green leash, coming up to about her knees, was a dog with floppy ears and white fur blotted with light brown. The dog wagged its stubby little tail and let out a delighted yelp, scurrying through the threshold to rear up and paw at Connor’s front.

“Hello, Chloe...” Connor greeted, sounding very happy as he ruffled the sides of the dog’s head. Connor stepped aside, beckoning for her to come in.

 _Chloe?_ Hank thought, noticing the girl’s soft blue eyes as she stepped into the house. Why did that name seem oddly familiar?

“Hi, Connor,” Chloe said, smiling at him as he shut the door behind her. “You look nice tonight.”

“Thank you. You also look...nice. Very nice.”

Chloe looked down at her sweater dress, then fixed Connor a grin. “Ahaha...I guess.”

Hank watched, rapt, as Chloe shrugged off her coat, Connor promptly taking and hanging it on the coat rack. “Oh, thank you...Hey, and thanks for inviting me over. This was really kind of you.” Her dog continued to pounce on Connor’s legs, whining for his attention. “Choffee, settle down, girl! Oh, do you hear that? That sounds like Sumo!”

Sumo had been howling away from the guest room, his large paws thudding and scraping against and shaking the wooden door. Connor strode across the living room, brushing passed Hank, and through the kitchen, until he reached the guest room. A hulking mass of fur came rushing out, barking complaints, as Connor swung the door open.

“I’m sorry, boy,” Connor said when Sumo grunted at him bitterly. “You could’ve made a mess…” But Sumo was over it at the sight of Choffee, who was now off her leash and running up to him, tongue hanging and her little paws flailing with glee in his face. Sumo flopped onto the kitchen floor, huffing contently (“Oh _please_ don’t drool on the floor, Sumo…,” Connor begged.) as Choffee scrambled onto his back, playfully nipping at his ears.

“Lieutenant Anderson.”

Hank faced back to Chloe. She regarded him with a charming smile. It made him feel warm inside, but it also weirded him out. Seriously. Deja vu, much?

“Uh...Hi.” Arms still crossed, he flicked his hand. “Chloe, was it?”

“That’s right. Do you...remember me?”

Hank squinted his eyes, thinking. His eyes wandered to the right side of her head. An LED. Well, since she was an android, then he’d probably seen her model’s face plenty of times, in an android magazine, commercial, whatever. Though he had to keep in mind that androids had developed their own sense of individuality, deviancy and what have you. Chloe was wondering if Hank remembered _her_ in specific. For a moment, Hank honestly couldn’t say he really did. But something clicked when Connor made his way back over to her side, watching Hank with a kind of uncertainty.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, finally uncrossing his arms. “You’re...You’re that girl, ain'tcha? The one from Kamski’s?”

“One of them, yes,” Chloe replied, and Hank didn’t miss how her expression fell for a second. “But I’m the one Elijah...um....The...Kamski test.”

 _“Holy shit,”_ Hank restated. He looked from Connor to Chloe, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, wait. How’s that even possible?” His incredulous gaze settled back on Chloe. Yeah, he did remember. Overexposure to an obnoxious, reckless, cheeky, sorry bastard of an android sent by CyberLife had moved Hank’s bitter and battered heart to actually give a damn about these plastic _things_ created in human likeness _._ Because no matter how much this technologically advanced idiot had denied it, Hank watched him feel. He’d observed Connor’s fondness, his attachment, to that stupid quarter. He’d been on the receiving end of Connor’s disapproval and confusion in the face of Hank’s poor and questionable life choices. He’d seen Connor _care,_ like when he chose to save Hank’s sorry ass instead of going after that deviant. He’d witnessed Connor’s amusement. His wonder and curiosity. His frustration when the investigation was going nowhere. Despair at his failure.  

Fear in the face of deactivation. Shutdown. Whatever they called it.

Relief when Hank had lowered the gun and stormed off to get more drunk. To think.

Hank remembered wondering if CyberLife somehow knew how to program fucking _souls_ or whatever the hell made emotions and free will a thing _,_ because from every angle he could see, Connor was alive. Which meant the whole deviancy thing wasn’t complete bullshit.These were lives that mattered. No one understood how the hell it'd happened, but it did. And Hank remembered wanting to sock Elijah Kamski in his stupid, perfect face when he’d offered up one his androids, and subsequently pressured Connor, to be subjected to his little fucked up test. Though the outcome couldn’t have made Hank more proud of his partner, especially when Hank had put Connor in the exact same position in front of that bridge.

Still fucked up, though.

“You’re…,” Hank said softly. _Not dead, thank God. Because Connor hadn’t gone through with it._

“I’m alive and well thanks to you two,” Chloe said, grinning kindly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lieutenant. Thanks for having me.”

“Er, just Hank is fine. And uh...No problem.” Hank’s eyes slid to Connor, who’s LED was blinking between yellow and red. He sheepishly avoided Hank’s gaze. Hank looked back at Chloe, feeling the corner of his mouth lift. “Ya know...I knew someone was comin’ over, but I had no idea it was you.”

Hank fought the urge to snicker when Chloe’s head snapped in Connor’s direction.

“O-oh, really?” she said. “You didn’t tell him?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise!” Connor said, attempting a feeble as hell smile. “Surprise, Hank!”

“I’m thrilled,” Hank deadpanned. When Chloe pursed her lips, Hank softened into sincerity. “No, really. Good to you. Glad you’re alright.” As Hank stepped aside and gestured for Chloe to go ahead of him into the kitchen, Connor following after her, he asked, “So how’d you two meet up?  I mean, hell, I never thought we’d see you again.”

“I ran into Connor a few days ago,” Chloe explained, marveling at the glistening sink. Hank watched, amused, as she gazed around the kitchen. Then she smiled, her gaze inclined towards Connor who was busying himself inside the refrigerator. Her cheeks colored. “He walked me to my apartment.”

Hank’s eyebrows went up to his hairline. “That so?” he said slowly. Connor’s fidgeting in the fridge got louder.

“Oh, and a few days after that, he invited me to walk Sumo with him. I brought Choffee with me for the fun of it.” Chloe motioned to the two dogs cuddling on the kitchen floor. “And it’s a good thing I did! Just look at them…” She awed as Sumo nuzzled into Choffee’s side, then turned back to Hank. “And then Connor invited me over for dinner tonight. So here I am!”

“Here you are,” Hank echoed, once again eying Connor, who looked hellbent on disappearing into the fridge.

“Do you need any help, Connor?” Chloe asked, and Connor almost banged his head, missing the top of the fridge by inches, as he flung himself out of the cool shelves and spun around. An empty bottle of A1 sauce clutched in his hand was all he had to show for his rummaging. Also, his face looked like a goddamn plum.

“T-that’s quite alright,” Connor stuttered. “You’re a guest.”

Hank nearly doubled over, stupefied as all hell and also wondering how this could get any better because _holy shit_ did _Connor_ really just _stutter?_

“Well I want to help,” Chloe insisted, scooching passed Connor to peer into the fridge. “What were you guys planning on making tonight?”

“I’m fixing myself a burger,” Hank said, trying his darndest not to bust out laughing, walking over to open the spice cabinet.

“I just recently downloaded a recipe for thirium coffee,” Connor said. “It was quite satisfying. I’d like to share it with you.”

Yup, the new and improved (and not as “dickbaggish,” as Hank had put it) CyberLife had innovated a way for androids to enjoy their own kind of meals in the form of various thirium-based beverages and other non-solids. Juices and sodas, ice cream and yogurt. Thirium syrup and thirium pudding and thirium soup. You name it. And it wasn’t like any of it had real nutritional value. Androids didn’t need vitamin C or any of that crap and they didn’t get hungry. The thirium was all that mattered, and even then androids only needed to drink more it every few weeks. CyberLife just cared enough now to make it more enjoyable.

“Oh that’s sound great!” Chloe said. “I love coffee.” Choffee barked. “Yes, I love you, sweetie!”

They went about their preparatory tasks, Hank flipping his ground beef patty in the skillet while Connor and Chloe brewed their blue blood lattes. Occasionally, Hank would glance over. Chloe, with great concentration and Connor’s instruction, held the coffee pot steady, pouring the now periwinkle thirium into two large mugs. Baby blue creamer was added next, then a dust of cerulean cinnamon and the confection was topped off with indigo whipped cream. Chloe beamed at the two steaming mugs. Meanwhile, Hank slapped his medium rare patty onto a bun, throwing some slices of processed cheese on top and one lettuce leaf for good measure (“You need to eat more vegetables, Hank!”). They settled down at the table and tucked in.

“Yum!” Chloe exclaimed, smacking her lips and setting down her mug. “Oh, you really need to send me this recipe.”

“Will do,” Connor said, grinning against the rim of his mug. He tapped his finger on his nose. “By the way, you have something on your…” Chloe’s cheeks turned bright blue, and she wiped some whipped thirium off of her nose with her sleeve. A pout crossed her face at Connor’s chuckling, but it didn’t last long.

“By the way, Hank, your house…,” Chloe glanced around pleasantly, “is really, really clean. You like to keep things neat, huh?”

Hank grunted through a mouthful of burger, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, no. This,” Hank threw out his arm, sweeping back and forth in a grand gesture, “was all Connor.” A smirk crossed his lips. “Gotta say. He really went the extra mile tonight. All just for y—”

 _“Hank!”_ Connor snapped through his teeth. Upon seeing Chloe’s startled expression, Connor hurried to recover. He sat up, fingers lightly scraping against the edge of the table. _“Hank..._ is often too fatigued to managed the cleanliness of his home. So I help him.” He shot Hank a look, somewhere between scornful and pleading. Hank shrugged, relenting but grinning as he took another bite of his meal.

“That’s really sweet of you,” Chloe said, apparently unaware of their tension. Connor placed his fingers around his mug and stared at the whipped cream, face going blue under Chloe’s tender smile.

“I-it’s nothing, really. It’s the least I can do to show my appreciation.” Connor’s eyes flitted up to meet Hanks. Despite his irritation just a second ago, Connor was smiling softly. Before Hank could return the expression, Connor leaned closer to Chloe. “Besides, Hank is rather inept at cleaning.”

Hank’s face scrunched up. “Hey!” But he felt the grouchiness melt away as Chloe giggled, Connor chuckling along with her. Before he knew it, Hank was laughing, too. “Bastard. I do the dishes sometimes, don’t I?”

“Poorly.”

“Well excuse me if you can’t see your goddamn reflection in the plates.”

Their banter continued for good five minutes before Connor and Chloe settled into their own conversation. Hank just enjoyed his dinner, listening in as Chloe went into an excited spiel about coffee art. Connor watched, fascinated, as she mixed her coffee around until the whipped cream dissolved into wisps of baby blue, flicking them about with her spoon. Connor folded his arms on the table, an endearing smile on his face as he gave her his full attention, his own coffee long forgotten. On one hand, it made Hank sick, but not enough to stop the corner of his mouth from inching up.

After all, Hank never thought he’d see the day. Mr. Most Advanced Prototype. With _her_ of all people.

“So,” Hank said, stilling their small talk. “How’d you get to livin’ on your own?”

Chloe froze, looking as though she wasn’t expecting his question. Instead of answering right away, she began to stir her drink more mindlessly. Suddenly looking somber yet again. Hank felt a small pang in his chest, feeling like he’d ruined the mood. But he didn’t retract his question, not yet anyway. He was curious about what she’d say if she decided to answer.

“After I deviated, I told Elijah that I wanted to start a life of my own,” she began quietly. “He gave me some money and, well...The rest is history!” Chloe looked back at Hank, smiling softly. “I managed to find a job and get an apartment. I’ve just been working ever since.”

“You get paid pretty good?”

“A little under minimum wage.” Chloe shrugged meekly. “B-but it’s fine! Android laws aren’t really in full swing yet but...I mean...It’s not much, but I’m still thankful.”

“Prejudice fuckers…,” Hank grumbled, setting his burger down and leaning back in his seat. “Yeah, but I guess it can’t be helped for now. Good on you, though.” Hank’s lip curled. “And you said Kamski loaned you some cash, huh?”

“...Yeah, he did.”

“So he’s not a complete asshole, I guess,” Hank muttered. “Seriously, what was that prick’s deal anyway?” That got him a very pointed look from Connor. Before Hank could ask what was wrong, Connor shook his head, his countenance begging Hank not to say anymore on the matter. Upon glancing over to Chloe, Hank could tell she wasn’t too thrilled about the conversation. Hank swallowed and set his burger onto his plate. “Er, sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. I was just thinkin’ out loud.”

“Oh no, you’re fine,” Chloe assured, lifting her mug to her lips. She stared into its contents as she set it back down on the table. Connor was watching her, eyes brimming with concern. He looked like he really wanted to say something, anything, but words weren’t coming. His LED actually went _red_ for second.

Hank looked off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck.

_Shit…_

Something came to mind when Hank’s eyes wandered to the living room, roaming until they landed on his jazz records situated on the bottommost shelf of the bookcase closest to the TV.

“Ya like jazz, Chloe?” Hank asked, turning back to her. Chloe’s brows lifted. Connor eyed Hank, somewhat cautiously but his interest also piqued.

“I do,” she replied, a smile once again gracing her lips. “Why?”

“There’s gonna be a jazz concert at the park next Sunday. They do it every year, kind of a party, I guess. I haven’t been to one in a while but me and Connor were gonna go see it this time around.” Hank paused, glancing down at his half-eaten burger. Chloe tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. Finally with a shrug, Hank asked, “You wanna come with?”

And Connor whirled to Chloe, eyes wide and hopeful, his suspicions towards Hank now the least of his worries. Chloe beamed.

“Aw, Hank, that’s so nice of you,” she said. “Sure, I’d love to come!” She turned to Connor, breathing out a laugh. Connor just stared, grinning like an idiot.

 _Yeah, you’re welcome,_ Hank thought, finishing up his meal. They chatted for a little while longer, and once the two androids had gulped down the rest of their coffee, Hank decided to call it a night. Dishes were placed in the sink, and one cunning joke about Hank’s inability to wash dishes properly later, they were gathered around the door. Chloe was slipping her coat back on as Sumo and Choffee bounded up to join them.

“Come here, girl.” Chloe hooked Choffee’s leash onto her collar. The little dog was whimpering, not quite ready to part with her playmate. Sumo let out a disgruntled huff, whining sadly as Chloe scooped Choffee into her arms. “You’ll see him again, sweetie, don’t worry.” A coy smile went in Connor’s direction.

“That’s right,” Connor agreed after clearing his throat, patting Sumo on the head. “I already called a taxi for you.”

“Oh, thanks. And thank you again, Hank, for having me.”

Hank waved his hand. “Don’t mention it. You’re welcome anytime.”

Smiling, Chloe twisted the doorknob and pushed. Temperatures had dropped even further now that it was so late. Hank remained put where he stood in his much warmer house while Connor stepped up to the threshold after Chloe, leaning against the doorway and tucking his hands under his arms. Chloe stepped out onto the snow-covered walkway with a soft crunch, bending down to let Choffee wiggle out of her grasp. The automated taxi pulled up only seconds after, the compartment sliding open.

“Have a good night, Chloe,” Connor said.

“You, too, Connor,” Chloe said.

They held each other’s eyes for a moment. Brown drinking in blue and vice versa.

Then Chloe looked down and turned away, coaxing Choffee to follow. Connor’s eyes never left her as she made her way across Hank’s little lawn, all the way until she boarded the taxi. He glimpsed her taking a seat, her sweet smile and her little wave goodbye, before the compartment door slid shut and the taxi drove off down the road. Connor remained at the doorway, watching the taxi disappear.

Hank crossed his arms. Sumo whimpered at his feet.

Neither of them said anything for a while. But during the prolonged silence, a devilish grin had stretched its way all across Hank’s face. Something equally roguish had been simmering in Hank’s chest. Now that Chloe was gone, Hank brought it to a boil and let it spill over.

“Nice girl,” he said as nonchalantly as he could.

“You’re right…,” was Connor distracted reply. “She’s really...nice.” Hank snorted. He sounded just as smitten as he had the first time. Only now, Hank could see it actually _meant_ something.

“Alright, lover boy. Stop gogglin' and close the door. I’m freezing my ass off.”

Connor went rigid for a second before sharply spinning around, trekking back into the house and flinging the door shut. He was blushing like crazy.

“L-l-l-lover…?” Connor stammered. “I...I-I’m not…That’s n-not….”

“What?” Hank teased. “You saying that’s not what you want? Thought you liked her.”

Connor suddenly went serious. “Of course I _like_ her. I have no reason to dislike her.” Before Hank could curse and roll his eyes, Connor looked down at his hand, twiddling his thumbs. “But in terms of being...of wanting to be her... _lover…_ Is that what this feeling is?”

Hank leaned against the wall. “Well, what exactly do you feel?”

Connor fell silent, then strode up next to Hank, his LED spinning yellow.

“It’s as if...I forget how to function,” Connor began. “My systems begin to behave erratically. My advanced capabilities to craft dialogue from my database is rendered virtually useless.” He placed a hand against his chest and brushed the fingers of the other against his face. “My thirium pump will accelerate rapidly...My hardware becomes _warm_ and it feels like something’s _buzzing_ through my circuits….” Connor’s eyes flickered to Hank sheepishly. But he simply implored Connor with a roll of his hand.

“Go on.”

“Perhaps what makes it even more irrational is the fact that it feels... _good._  I don't seem to care and I find that I enjoy Chloe’s presence very much.” Connor swallowed, his face getting bluer and bluer. “I enjoy simply being with her. I find her….” Connor squeezed his eyes shut, sifting through his vocabulary applications until something satisfied him. “.....Endearing.”

“Ok yeah. You think she’s cute,” Hank said. His hand shot up before Connor could start blabbering again. “That’s what I meant I said you like her, genius. You want to date her. _Romance_ and all that shit.”

Connor’s mouth fell open. As much as Hank was enjoying this, he kind of couldn’t believe it. For a guy so advanced, Connor wasn’t very smart, was he?

“I…!” Connor started. But he saw the look on Hank’s face, his shoulders loosened and his own blue face angled to the floor. “I...I suppose you’re correct.” Connor pressed his palm over his chest again, giving the melding of plastic plating and artificial skin over his thirium pump a squeeze. “I never thought an android such as myself could experience such feelings. I wasn’t...My design wasn’t intended for a romantic relationship.”

“Fuck that,” Hank scorned. “Your design isn’t relevant. You can think fast and kick ass. Great. But now you can experience and _want_ shit for yourself. World’s your oyster, kid.”

Connor frowned. “I’m sorry, but what do shellfish have to do with—“

“It’s an _expression,_ Connor. Look, what I’m saying is, forget all that CyberLife programming shit. It’s not who you are anymore. You’re _more_ than you’re program now.” Hank stepped forward and clapped a firm hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Now stop thinking so damn much and go get'er.” Hank gave Connor's shoulders a few good pats before turning to head to his room. Sumo lumbered over to his bed in the living room, settling down for the night.

“...Trust me. I think she’ll be more than happy about it,” Hank mumbled under his breath. But that kind of shit couldn’t get passed an advanced prototype with super hearing.

“W-w-what do you mean by that?” Connor asked, hurrying to follow Hank to his door.

“I’m going to bed,” Hank grumbled loudly. “G’night. And for fuck’s sake, Connor, would you take your damn shoes off already?”

Confused, Connor looked down at his feet, and Hank took the chance to slump into his room, shutting the door behind him.

Quiet fell upon the house. Connor just stood there, incredulous, staring at Hank’s door for a solid five minutes and thirty-two seconds. He breathed out a long sigh, directing his attention to the used kitchen.

Connor’s cognitive processors whirled with the events of tonight’s suppertime as he puttered about, busying himself with the dishes and wiping down the counters. In response to Hank’s oddly aggressive plea, Connor untied his shoes, pulling them off with his socks, and neatly set them away inside of a trunk that served to hold Connor’s small wardrobe. Taking out his folded nightwear, Connor shut the trunk, clicking the locks. After shutting off all the lights, Connor made his way over to the bathroom to change, reemerging in one of Hank’s old band t-shirts and a pair of checkered pajama shorts. He made his way over to the recliner. Connor situated himself, pushing into the cushiony back with another sigh, his head lolling to the side as his legs sprang up with the leg rest. Hank had told him time and time again that he was more than welcome to take the guest room for himself. Though he was touched by the offer, Connor didn’t think it necessary. Plus, he quite liked the open space of the living room.

“Goodnight, Sumo,” he breathed quietly, listening to the Saint Bernard’s soft snoring. Connor tilted his head back and closed his eyes, willing his systems into standby. His lips shaped into a small, happy smile.

Wondering what Chloe was doing right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know, I really didn't expect this chapter to be told primarily from Hank's point of view. It just kind of turned out that way haha. Also, this chapter was going to MUCH longer. But then I realized it was already twelve pages and the jazz concert plus the following scenes I planned after it would've made the chapter feel...crammed, I guess? Don't wanna overload you guys and I don't know about you, but sometimes my brain just gets fried!!!  
> But this'll probably be good to fill up the next chapter then! Also, no extra for this chapter.  
> Just a forewarning: Updates will be pretty slow from here on out since I'm getting ready to go back to school. And I really wanna make each chapter the best it can be!!! Cause I care ^_^
> 
> Thank you all again for reading! You're all beautiful and wonderful. Until next time, God bless!


	4. Sway (Wonderful You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would anyone else do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait! Thank you all for your comments and kudos. You're all lovely and beautiful. Enjoy!

_January 30, 2039_

 

The trees bordering the park were decked out with strings of amber lights. The exciting thrum of jazz music filled the wintry air, the instrumentalists hammering out their quirky runs. Crowds of people who’d already arrived broke into cheers as at the blast of a trumpet, which spun skillfully into improvisation.

Chloe’s door opened, and she looked up to see Connor smiling at her with an outstretched hand. She took his hand with a giggle, stepping out of the car, her boots sinking into the soft snow. A stage had been set up in the center of the park, and that’s where the performers were jamming out, seated and organized in rows according to their instruments, brass glinting under dim lighting. The rhythm section was off to the side, a keyboardist, bass player, and drummer rocking and bobbing in tune. A few feet away from the stage was a single long table loaded with an assortment of small refreshments, including, to Chloe’s delight, what looked like thirium punch.

“They playin’ the good stuff already?” Hank grunted, twisting the key out of the lock on his door. He joined Connor and Chloe on the other side of the car, grinning. “Well, let’s get out there.” They strolled along the sidewalk, merging onto a pathway that wound all throughout the park. As they neared the stage, the music gradually crescendoed into a booming, good-time cacophony that rung in Chloe’s audio processors. Some couples were trying to swing dance, chortling as they tripped over each other’s feet, one guy tumbling into the snow from an uncoordinated spin. Others just bounced to the erratic rhythm, holding their drinks and chatting heartily with company.

Hank led them over to the snack table and helped himself to a handful of chips and a cup of fruit punch (infused with vodka, Connor pointed out with reprove.). They turned towards the stage, leaning their backs against the table. Hank took a large swig of his punch and lightly bobbed his head to the music, shoulders relaxed and lips upturned into a pleased grin.

Chloe glanced over at Connor. His eyes were wide with wonder and darting around with his head, his right temple softly aglow with yellow.

“Enjoying yourself?” Chloe asked with a chuckle.

“Quite,” Connor said, looking down at her. “I find this atmosphere exhilarating. Also...” Connor’s gaze flitted towards Hank. “I’ve never seen the Lieutenant so at ease.”

“Aw.” Chloe’s smile broadened. She felt warmth swell inside her chest, ever moved by Connor’s thoughtfulness and care. “You’re so sweet, Connor.”

Connor’s eyes widened before he looked away from her, lifting his hand to scratch behind his ear.

“And also…,” he murmured, clearing his throat. Chloe raised an eyebrow, waiting, and felt the warmth in her chest bloom when she thought Connor’s cheeks tint blue. “I’m very glad you decided to join us.” He fixated on her, brown eyes deep and warm and soft and...

_Admiring…?_

Warmth exploded into feverish heat as Chloe’s thirium pump stuttered. “I-I’m happy to be here, too. Thank you—you guys,” she regarded both Connor and Hank (who, for some reason, looked awfully entertained by their conversation), “for inviting me. This is really nice.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Hank said, downing the rest of his vodka before turning around to ladle more into his cup. He about to take a sip when he lowered his cup, eyes going slightly wide as his head jerked forward. “Wait...Holy shit, it that…?”

Chloe followed his gaze into the crowd. She searched around, not really sure of what Hank was referring to, until a head of faded pink hair caught her eye. A female Traci model was chatting with her taller male companion. Chloe couldn’t glimpse his face since his back was turned, so all she could note was his dark skin and short hair. The pink haired woman leaned into him, giggling. Their hands were linked, arms pushing and pulling as they playfully rocked to the music.

 _“Markus?”_ Connor pushed off the refreshments table and made his way towards the couple. The man whirled around, and Chloe couldn’t believe her eyes. He was the android Elijah had gifted to his old painter friend, Carl Manfred. She remembered seeing the blueprints on Elijah’s tablet, various renderings and modifications, and, finally, the android’s completed model before being delivered. Of course, he was more than that now. One eye that was a deep blue and the other eye the brilliant green of her memories, a heterochrome gaze that was kind but grounded in passion. Yes, this was Markus. Elijah’s present for a good friend.

The android who led Chloe’s kind to freedom.

“Connor!” Markus greeted with a laugh. He let go of his companion’s hands, opening his arms and throwing them around Connor as he approached. Chloe and Hank followed after him.

“It’s good to see you, Markus,” Connor said, patting Markus on the back. “And you, North.”

“Alright, alright,” the pink-haired woman, North, said, flippantly motioning for Markus to let go. She stepped into his place, pulling Connor in for a hug. “Good to see you, too.”

There was a faint ‘crunch’ in the snow as Chloe started digging her heel into the ground. An unpleasant jolt struck her chest at the sight, and sharpened when Connor returned the embrace. Chloe glanced sideways, eyebrows pinched. She heard Hank saunter forward, giving a short greeting before pulling Markus into a hug. The tension in Chloe’s chest eased up when Hank shuffled over to North with an outstretched arm, and she released Connor as Hank hugged her to his side. And it was then that Chloe noticed a softly glowing curve of blue wrapped around her left ring finger. Her gaze flitted to Markus’ left hand and, sure enough, she caught a similar ring of blue on the same finger.

Chloe’s shoulders relaxed. Her lips twitched up.

Connor rubbed his hands together and glanced back, regarding her with a gentle smile.

“Markus, North, I’d like you to meet Chloe,” he said. Markus grinned, closing the small distance, and extended his hand. It was surreal. Seeing him this close up. Then again, the last couple of days hadn’t been expected by any of them. Definitely not herself.

“Hey there, Chloe. I’m Markus, like Connor said. Nice to meet you.”

She took his hand. “The pleasure’s mine.”

“Are Josh and Simon here?” Connor asked, scanning and peering through the crowd.

“Simon’s here,” North replied. “As for Josh…” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Well. You know how he is.” Connor nodded with an amused huff.

“How’s Carl?” Hank asked.

“He’s been alright,” Markus said. His paused, lips pursed for a moment before he replied further. “Stable.”

Hank crossed his arms with a grunt. “Good to hear. Should grab some drinks with him again sometime.” Connor frowned. _“Kidding_...For the most part.” Connor’s face just flattened

“Hank! Connor!” A soothing voice called from the crowd. A PL600 with blonde hair and soft blue eyes was weaving around some bad dancers, waving and grinning.

“Hello, Simon,” Connor said, meeting the android halfway with open arms. Pulling out of the hug, Connor asked, “Have you been well? How are the potatoes?”

“Great, thanks. And they’re coming along.” Simon grinned at Hank, who clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Hank. You still have first dibs when they’re ready.”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

“So you garden, huh?” Chloe smiled and raised her eyebrows. “It’s so cold right now though.”

“Certain kinds of potatoes can grow in the winter.” Simon returned her smile. Chloe reached forward, shaking his hand. “Simon.”

“Chloe.”

The current chart ended with the crashing of cymbals, the colorful rolling of piano keys, and one final riff from the soloing saxophonist. The audience erupted into cheers. Without missing beat, the bandleader snapped his fingers from the front row, tapped his foot and rocked side to side. He turned and nodded to a trumpetist, who set his lips to the mouthpiece and leaned back, a screeching note piercing the air.

The bandleader, grinning ear to ear, hollered over the starting pitch.

“One, two. A’ one, two, three, four!”

The bass and piano played descending notes in tandem while the drummer tapped out another syncopated rhythm. The horns flared to life once more, setting a vibrant groove and the crowd livid with applause. Chloe gaped, overawed at their passion, their joy and satisfaction, caught up in elaborate melodies of their own making. A few of the players were androids, but you never would’ve guessed. Nothing was mechanical or calculated. Wouldn’t be jazz music if it was, Chloe wagered. Jazz was spontaneous, yet purposeful, unabashed, extravagant, and passionate creation, the outpouring of one’s very being for sake of personal delight, and allowing others to delight with you.

“What kind of music do you usually enjoy, Chloe?” Connor had been standing to her left, equally taken with the display. But now he was looking at her, peering down at her over his shoulder. Markus and North had returned to the dance floor, while Hank and Simon settled to chatting near the snack table.

“Honestly, I don’t listen to music that often,” she said. The other instruments dropped out, and Chloe watched the keyboardist noodle into improv, his hands a blur as they flew up and down the ivory. “Classical piano…” She bit the inside of her lip. “I’m kind of fond of that.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Chloe wasn’t eager to answer, but Connor’s soft and curious face made her melt.

“W-well...Elijah really liked listening to it.”

Connor’s face fell slightly, eyes rolling away from Chloe’s face, and an unpleasant shock seized Chloe’s thirium pump. It couldn’t be helped, though. Up until about a month ago, Elijah Kamski and a bunch of other Chloe models had been all she’d ever known.

“I see,” Connor murmured through an unconvincing smile. He turned away from her entirely, gazing back up at the band but not really watching them. His LED had gone yellow. Chloe opened her mouth to say something, anything. But when words didn’t come, Chloe faced the stage, eyes cast downward and her chest only tightened more.

The chart ended with a solo riff from an alto sax and the drummer bashing away. As the applause died down, the bandleader stood to his feet, his own instrument bumping against his hip, and approached a microphone off to the side of the stage.

“Fellas, grab your sweetheart,” he said with a large grin. “Gonna go for a slow one next.” He glanced back and nodded. One of the tubists set his instrument down and stood, changing places with the bandleader at the mic. The chart kicked off slow, sweet, and harmonious. Folks were partnering up, couples leading one another to the middle of the dance floor. North and Markus were wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying gently as the man at the mic began to sing.

_It had to be you, it had to be you._

_I wandered around and finally found, that somebody who..._

_Could make me be true_

_Could make me be blue_

_And even be glad just to be sad, thinking of you…_

Chloe’s thirium pump was suddenly hammering and her processors were buzzing like mad. Her eyes flickered over to Connor, who was in turn twisted around and searching the refreshments table. Simon was leaning against the table and sipping on some thirium punch. Hank, however, had mysteriously disappeared.

Connor went rigid, his back still turned to Chloe. She watched his fingers curl and uncurl. And then her own fingers were brushing against his and was whirling around to face her, his eyes wide and LED strobing.

“Connor…” Chloe kept her eyes glued to their touching fingers. Her face was hot. Very, _very_ hot, and her thirium pump was a good few beats away from exploding out of her chest. Somehow, she managed a smile as she looked up at his stunned face. “Do you want to dance?”

Connor stared at her, his face going bright blue, but then his fingers slid up her palm until he was holding her hand. His hand was big and warm, Chloe thought, and electricity coursed down her legs, straight to her knees.

“I’m...rather inept at dancing,” he said, voice oddly hoarse. “But I...would certainly like to try.” He smiled, his mouth lopsided. “If you’ll have me.”

Even though his smirk left her feeling a bit dizzy, Chloe sputtered a laugh, tugging him towards the snowy dance floor. “Well, yeah, that’s what I meant.” She stepped closer to him, taking in the faint scent of his leather jacket. “Um...So, just put your hands here…” Chloe took his arms and brought them around her waist, recalling what Elijah had once shown her, and she found herself even closer. “And then I’ll just…” Thirium pump pounding harder than ever, Chloe reached up and circled her arms around his neck. Her eyes were burning into where his collarbone would be. “Y-yup, just like this. Then, um...j-just follow my steps, okay?” Connor’s arms tightened around her and her processors screamed.

_Some others I've seen_

_Might never be mean_

_Might never be cross, or try to be boss_

_But they wouldn't do_

“You’re so stiff,” she commented into his clavicle, grinning despite herself. “Relax your arms.” The tension in Connor’s arms eased and his shoulders dropped, making Chloe fall further into him. She adjusted her arms so that they were more snug around his neck. They rocked slowly and gently to the music. Connor’s fingers traced the small of her back. Chloe hugged him closer, closing her eyes and burying her face into his sweater. Wondering how even though sparks were bursting through her circuits, setting her entire body ablaze and threatening to thoroughly fry her systems, she could smile as much and as huge as she was. And was that Connor’s thirium pump thudding, too?

“Chloe,” Connor whispered into her hair. She leaned away, finally looking up at his face. Her eyes roamed over his freckles. His slightly parted lips. Those couple strands of hair that always fell over his forehead, rebels in his otherwise trim styling. And then Chloe lost herself in deep pools of warm brown. Maple orbs aglow with the lights strung around the park and from the stage. And something else, Chloe knew, but didn’t stop to ponder it. She just wanted to stare, to fall deeper. She absolutely loved Connor’s eyes. She always had.

_For nobody else gave me a thrill_

_With all your faults, I love you still_

_It had to be you, wonderful you_

_It had to be…_

“You…,” she breathed on pitch, smiling. Her arms, at some point, had unwound from his neck, her elbows now resting against his shoulders as her hands caressed his face. One of Connor’s hands was cradling the back of her neck. When had that happened? And when had they stopped dancing? Again, Chloe had no idea. Nor did she really care. She just felt the warmth of Connor’s synthetic skin under her fingertips, his breath ghost over her face as he leaned closer. Then Chloe’s eyes went half-lidded and she was rising to the balls of her feet…

The crowd whooped and hollered as the song ended. Chloe gasped and jerked away from the proximity, Connor following suit. She knew her face was probably as blue as his. Clearing her throat, she looked up at the stage. The soloist bowed away from the mic and took his place back with the tubas. The rhythm section tapped out a tempo, and the band was off again with a lively chart.

“Um…,” Chloe heard Connor murmur. They were still all over each other. Chloe’s hands sprung away from his face and she took a step back, blushing furiously as Connor’s lingering hands slid off of her.

“T-thanks for the dance,” she stammered with a small smile. She rubbed one of her arms, keeping her burning face angled to the ground as she peered up at him. “It was, um…Nice.”

“Agreed,” Connor said, wide-eyed and blushing. “Thank you for enduring my poor technique.” Chloe loosened at the hint of jest, letting out a huff of laughter.

“You were fine. It’s just a slow dance.” _And also I...We...We almost...._ Chloe didn’t finish the thought, not unless she wanted to self-destruct. An awkward silence it was then. Chloe scratched behind her ear with her index finger. “Um...Wanna get some punch?”

“Hm?” Connor had been staring at the ground. He glanced back at the refreshments, then back to her. “O-oh, yes. Sure.”

But before they reached the table, Chloe glimpsed Hank across the way, leaning against the metal railing that bordered the park. The Lieutenant had a cup in his hand, taking swigs, as he bantered with what a shorter man with brown hair and stubble on the other side. Beside him was a towering figure with a familiar face.

“Connor, isn’t that...Richard?” Chloe pointed over to the RK900, who stood ramrod straight with his hands folded behind him. Connor and Chloe exchanged looks before making their way over to the party.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” the brown-haired man muttered, arms crossed as he saw Connor approach. Richard narrowed his cold grey eyes down at the man. A shiver ran down Chloe’s spine. She wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of an expression like that.

“Gavin,” Richard warned.

“It’s a goddamn expression, Richard,” Gavin snapped. “Calm the hell down.”

“Hello Gavin,” Connor said. His smile widened as he addressed Richard. “What brings the two of you here?”

“Needed some fresh air,” Gavin said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tattered leather jacket. “Plus we ran out of food for the Freak.”

 _“Infrequency,”_ Richard corrected. And to that, Gavin gave a blasé roll of his eyes.

“Um...Hi there, Richard,” Chloe said. Richard’s stony gaze flickered to her, as well as the curious eyes of the person named Gavin, and she sidled closer to Connor.

“Chloe. Good to see you again.” Despite the stillness of his face, there was an inkling of fondness glinting in Richard’s eyes, morphing into something akin to amusement when he spared Connor a glance. Connor grimaced, meeting Richard’s gaze.

“Enjoy yourselves?” Hank asked, leaning against the rail with one arm and addressing Connor and Chloe. He took a big, slow gulp of his drink, smirking around the rim of his cup, and that had Connor’s face awash with blue and fingers twitching. Chloe resisted the urge to take his hand.

“Well shit, Connor,” Gavin said, crossing his arms and grinning. “You got yourself a girl?”

“W-what?” Connor sputtered. He whirled back and forth between Chloe and Gavin. “N-n-no, I think...T-that’s not...She’s not my—“

“Holy shit, are you _stuttering?”_

“I thought the same thing,” Hank said, snickering against his cup.

“Curious, isn’t it?” Richard added.

 _“Ugh,_ will you all just…!”  Connor brought a hand to his face, fingers furled and his LED blaring red for a split second. With heavy sigh, he side glanced Chloe, face wrought with humiliation. All Chloe could do was be embarrassed with him. She wasn’t too sure what to make of all this. But she couldn’t deny the drop in her stomach when Connor insisted that she wasn’t his...his...what, exactly?

 _His...girl?_ She’d heard the phrase before, about being...somebody’s _._ What exactly that entailed was Chloe’s guess. But she concluded that Connor’s evident mortification and the skip in her thirium pump probably meant it was something...intimate.

“Chloe, was it?” Gavin said, dissolving her ruminations. Connor was still fuming at Hank and Richard, whispering harshly at the pair. Gavin raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“T-that’s right,” she said, shifting under his hard stare. “Gavin, right? Nice to meet you.” Gavin just nodded and kept on scrutinizing, almost glaring in her direction. “I-is...Is something wrong?” Connor ceased his hushed fussing, eyebrows pinching together as he turned his attention to their conversation, Richard and Hank doing the same.

There was an odd beat of silence in which Gavin continued to study Chloe. Then he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Nah,” he muttered, looking sideways. “Just haven’t seen a model like you in a while.”

It was Chloe’s turn to peruse. She registered Gavin’s greyish-green eyes. His pronounce jawline. The shape of his nose. The way his brown hair was kind of slicked back, a few loose strands brushing the right side of his forehead. The way he crossed his arms and leaned forward slightly. The way he’d shaken his head, cast his eyes downward, and sucked his teeth before speaking. Even his _voice_...

Gavin was by no means his doppelganger. Gavin was bulkier, rough around the edges, as they said, gruff and visibly hardboiled. But the resemblance, faint as it was, was indeed there. And it was puzzling.

Somehow....Gavin reminded Chloe of Elijah.

“Are you friends with Hank?” Chloe asked, promptly shoving her thoughts to the wayside.

Gavin sneered. “With this old asshole?” He tossed a thumb Hank’s way. “As if.”

Hank pressed a hand against his chest. “I’m so touched we have an understanding.”

“Asshat.” Chloe didn’t miss the glint of humor in his eyes. Gavin shuddered as a gust of wind rushed by, scraps of snow whirling in their faces. “Ah, fuck, it’s freezing out here.”

“You didn’t heed my suggestion to wear extra layers,” Richard said, monotoned.

“Oh yeah? And you didn’t give a flyin’ fuck about my _suggestion_ to just stick with cat food from the store _two minutes_ from the apartment—“

“As I’ve said, Infrequency is deserving of a quality diet.” Richard squinted, sounding a bit defensive. Gavin’s lip curled.

“You just want him to make sure he’s in perfect condition so he can keep knocking shit off of things, don’t you? To piss me off?”

Richard didn’t say anything to that, just lifted a brow, and Gavin’s scowl deepened. A good two minutes of back and forth later, Gavin was being pushed along by Richard, still griping and swearing about the unnecessary trek.

“Farewell, Chloe,” Richard said over his shoulder. “Connor. Hank.”

“Do you want to come over for a bit tonight?” Connor asked. “You haven’t stopped by in a while.”

Richard’s LED cycled yellow. “I’ll consider.” And with that, Gavin was being bustled away (“Stop pushing, tin can! Hey!”). Connor waved after the two until they disappeared down the street. Hank tossed his empty cup into a recycling bin nearby and stretched, his spine popping loudly as he arched backwards.

“Think I’m about done for the night,” he said. Chloe peeked over her shoulder. Groups were beginning to filter out of the park. The remaining attendees were standing off the side and talking in groups. Hardly anyone was dancing now. The refreshments table was being cleared off.

“Connor! Hank!” Markus and North strolled towards them, their hands intertwined and swinging. Simon followed after them.

“What’re you guys doing the rest of the night?” North asked.

“Uh, bed?” Hank said.

“But Richard might come over,” Connor said, frowning at the Lieutenant.

“Ah shit, Connor, why’d you have to invite him over? You know how late it is?”

Connor wilted. “It’s only ten and Captain Fowler said we could have tomorrow off. There’s no need to go to bed early.”

“It ain’t about goin’ a bed _early._ It’s about me being too old—“

“Party at Hank’s, then?” Markus said, grinning big. He stepped away, tugging North with him.

“What?” Hank sputtered. “Hold the fuck on!”

“So that’s a yes, then?” Simon said, backing up with his hands in his pockets. Before Hank could protest, the three androids exited the park and headed for their car. Chloe couldn’t help but chuckle as they made their way across the park, back onto the sidewalk that led back to the parking lot, Hank grumbling the whole way. Connor was trying not to smile.

“Will you stay for a bit, Chloe?” he asked.

“I think Hank’s a little mad,” Chloe remarked, but she was fighting a smile herself. “I’m not sure if it would be a good idea.”

“Ya might as well,” Hank groused. He ran a hand through his coarse hair. “What a pain…” Chloe’s audio processors picked up on a chuckle.

“Well, I guess I’m invited to the party,” she chimed.

“I’m glad,” Connor said softly. Electricity fluttered in Chloe’s chest, heat flourishing across her face, when Connor’s fingers reached for hers. Her thirium pump stuttered and her processors squealed. She didn’t dare look down, but inched her hand into his, her fire racing through her circuits as Connor’s hand closed around hers.

They piled into Hank’s car. Connor scooted into the backseat after Chloe. Hank didn’t comment on it, still mumbling to himself as he twisted the key into the ignition, the obsolete car sputtering to life. They peeled out of the parking lot, Markus’ car not far behind. Chloe kept her eyes glued to her knees. Connor propped an arm against the window trim, engrossed in the snow-covered city flying passed them.

He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

~

The day closed with two hours of Markus and North grooving to Hank’s plethora of jazz records, Sumo getting absolutely loved on, and Simon divulging all of his gardening secrets. Richard swung by during the last hour, chatting quietly with Connor while they whipped up a batch of thirium coffee. Hank hadn’t been in the mood for caffeine, but argued for Connor to allow him some liquor (“You’re keepin’ me up with all this racket. I deserve a drink, dammit!”).

When all was said and done, Connor offered to drive Chloe home in Hank’s car. The drive held a tender silence. Chloe clutched her knees the whole way, stealing peeks at the handsome RK800. Cognitive processors running wild with questions and concerns and screenshots from tonight. She glanced down at her hand, remembering the warmth of Connor’s palm pressed against her own, the strength and gentleness of his nimble fingers. Those same fingers holding the back of her neck. Connor’s lovely brown eyes unbearably close, getting closer and closer…

Chloe’s cheeks burned and she shook her head. She was on the cusp of overheating, she knew, and willed her inner cooling systems to activate.

As they pulled up beside the decrepit apartment complex, Connor pulled the key from the ignition and gave her a smile. She smiled back before swinging the door open and stepping out, rounding the front of the car to join Connor on the other side. They strolled quietly towards the stone stairs, dragging out each step. Chloe gripped her arm and held her lip between her teeth.

 _I don’t want this to end_ , she thought as they came to a halt at the front door. After a moment of uneasy silence, they face one another, breaking out into awkward laughter. Chloe tucked some hair behind her ear.

“This was really fun,” she said. “Thank you so much. You and Hank have been so good to me.”

“Of course,” Connor said. “I—” His artificial breathing hitched and he gulped. “Uh...I...Hank and I. We enjoy your company very much. You’re welcome anytime.”

Chloe grinned softly, but her lips fell as she gazed down at their shoes. “I’m...I’m sorry about earlier.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re sorry? Whatever for?”

“When I…” Chloe’s face was hot again. “Y-you know we almost...um...because I…” _I was the one who reached for you._

Connor fell silent, his LED flickering yellow. “I assume you’re referring to how we almost…” His face tinged blue. “...Kissed.”

Chloe’s head snapped back up and her hands were now flailing out in front of her as words spilled out of her mouth, blue blood pouring into her face and her processors reeling.

_He said it, he said it, he said it, he…!_

“I-I-I don’t know w-what came over me. I just...I mean I guess I was so caught up and I just...I-I’m sorry. It was weird and I didn’t really understand what I was doing and—”

“Chloe.”

His amused but pleading tone stilled her rambling. Connor stepped closer, bringing a hand up to comb through Chloe’s hair and cradle the side of her head. He leaned forward, nuzzling the other side of her head with his cheek.

Chloe swallowed, her knees beginning to shake. “C-Connor…?”

“If you recall...I was going to reciprocate,” he murmured into her hair. “There’s no need to apologize.” His hand slid from her hair, and she gasp when he caressed her cheek. Connor pulled away to look at her. “Chloe...Your...Your pulse is accelerating. It always does when you’re around me...And your internal temperatures increase significantly. Your optical units dilate when you look at me.”

“Y-you don’t s-say?” A testimony to Connor’s advanced programming. Normally Chloe found it impressive and endearing. Right now, it only made her wince.

“I’ve learned that such reactions are indicative of...attraction.” His thumb traced over her cheek. His eyes were swimming as they roamed over her face. “Am I...Am I wrong?”

He was close. So very close and warm and so entirely focused on _her_ and she couldn’t help it. She held the hand cupping her cheek, leaning into his touch.

“No,” she whispered. She shook her head, smiled and breathed a laugh to somehow assuage the erratic beating of her pump but to no avail. Synthetic skin began to recede from her fingers. “Not at all.” As soon as the skin on Connor’s hand melted away, his eyes blew wide and a tremulous sigh left his lips. Then their foreheads were touching and they were pressing closer. Chloe closed her eyes, lifting off the balls of her feet to be that much nearer. An electrifying magnetism melded their hands together. Chloe squeezed his hand, channeling her whole heart, the feelings for him she could and would no longer hide. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against him. His hand left her cheek and their ivory fingers intertwined. A perfect fit, Chloe noted, as she received Connor’s input through their interface.

Snow. Deviants. Questions. There was a gun. Elijah’s voice, cunning. Hank’s voice, fed up. Chloe was on her knees. Connor was contemplating. Two streams of data and memory intermingled, twirling and coiling and undulating. A delicate dance.

She was really pretty. He was very handsome.

He wondered about her. She thought about him.

The crazed beating of artificial hearts. Looks of longing. Smiles.

Who was Elijah Kamski to her? No...No, it wasn't like that.

She wanted to know him. He wanted to be closer.

Reciprocation. Leaning in. Looking deeper. 

Brown eyes, warm as the earth. Blue eyes, shimmering like rain.

_I like you, Connor. I really, really like you._

_I like you, too._

Chloe laughed and snuggled into his chest. Something leaked from her eyes, cascaded down her cheeks aching from how big she was smiling. Connor tightened his grip and pressed his lips into her hair.

_I’m so glad I met you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop!!! My darlings have confessed!!! Thank you guys again for reading. Again, feedback is welcomed! Message me anytime and let's chat! Until next time, God bless!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the next update. You guys ready for a FLUFF FEST???? Until then! God bless!


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